


Talking to Strangers

by Miri1984



Category: Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Multi, basically i'm at the point where if you give me a character you want in here i'll put them in, but only after i've put all my faves in, shameless shameless shameless fanservice, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-27
Updated: 2016-02-27
Packaged: 2018-04-06 09:43:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 21,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4216917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miri1984/pseuds/Miri1984
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The crew of the Ghost have to take a trip to Tatooine for a pick up. Predictably, they run into trouble. And a few other things besides.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Vast open spaces, desert that could hide a multitude of sins (or a large shipment of illegal weaponry), easy access to members of questionable smuggling organisations? These were pretty handy for your average smuggler. Unfortunately for the crew of the Ghost, it was also pretty handy for a rebel cell short on supplies and information.

“Ugh, I hate Tatooine,” Sabine, as they trudged into the small town under the searing heat of two suns.

“I dunno,” Ezra said. “Seems pretty similar to Lothal. Without the grass though.”

“I don’t get why the Hutt Cartel loves it here so much,” Sabine said. “You’d think something so big and with so many skin folds would chafe from exposure to sand.”

“You’ve never seen Hutta, obviously,” Hera said wryly. “Believe me when I tell you Tatooine looks good next to that ball of toxic mud.”

“I’m still not comfortable dealing with the Cartel at all,” Kanan said. “They have a bad habit of cheating on deals. And then. You know. Killing you.”

“He’s not _technically_ Cartel,” Hera said. “He just runs cargo for them.”

“I’m not _technically_ a Jedi, we’re not _technically_ a rebellion…”

“Kanan…” Hera’s tone turned chiding and Kanan waggled a hand.

“Mirialan, meiloorun,” he said.

“One of those is a fruit and the other one’s a person, dear.”

Kanan grinned and shrugged.

“You’ve dealt with the Cartel before?” Ezra said, curious. Kanan had an interesting past -- of course he knew that -- but he couldn’t picture the older Jedi making deals with Hutts.

“I did a lot of stupid things when I was your age, kid,” Kanan said, giving him a small smile. “Doesn’t mean I’d recommend them to anyone else.”

“Ahsoka said it was important that we get this shipment, despite where it comes from,” Hera said as they walked towards the Anchorhead Cantina where their contact was supposed to meet them. “And I trust her on this -- she’s usually right.”

Kanan’s eyes slid away from them and Ezra wondered again, as he had been doing a lot lately, what the story with that was. Logically, they should be pairing up, sharing strategies on how to … oh he didn’t know … train Ezra but the two older Jedi barely spent any time in the same room together and Ezra knew the dark cloud of what they’d sensed in the Sith Lord was a constant presence in the Togruta woman’s thoughts.

He thought she wasn’t telling them everything, and had said as much to Sabine.

Sabine had told him not to gossip.

The Anchohead Cantina was pretty much your average country bar -- a few older farmers here and there drinking, a couple of transport drivers between pick ups. On entry it took Hera a couple of seconds to realise their group would stand out far too much if they stuck together, so she sent Ezra and Sabine outside, with a warning to be back in three hours. Zeb and Chopper were back on the ship, in case they needed a pick up. Usually it would be Hera’s job to fly in and save the day, but their contact had insisted he meet with her personally. Hera had agreed, reluctantly, and extracted a promise from Chopper not to let Zeb touch the controls if things came to that. Chopper had been delighted with the prospect of shocking the Lasat and Zeb had groaned. “Hey at least you’ll be in here and out of the heat,” Kanan had said, slapping him on the shoulder.

As it was, Sabine and Ezra emerged out into the heat of the day, Ezra wincing and covering his eyes, and Ezra almost wished he was back there with the big lump of grump and his sadistic robotic companion. “I take it back,” he said. “This place isn’t anything like Lothal.”

Sabine bumped shoulders with him. “Cheer up, Ezra. Maybe you could go pod racing or something to pass the time.”

“What are you going to do?”

She eyed a merchant stall on the other side of the square, where several Jawas were shouting out bargains in that language of theirs which he was pretty sure Sabine was as fluent in as she was in every other tongue in the quadrant. He caught a glimpse of a few barrels that had dangerous looking labels on them, and figured they were probably full of explosives. A summation that was confirmed when Sabine said she was going to go shopping, and headed towards them with determination.

Ezra mopped sweat from his forehead and glared after her, walking jauntily through the blazing heat. He knew for a fact that her armour had a coolant system in it, and her visor shielded her from the glare of the two suns. He made a note to adjust his own flight suit. If they were going to be spending more time on other planets, it would do him good to have clothes that were a little more adaptable.

He had a brief, foolish fantasy of himself in flowing Jedi robes -- but he dismissed it almost as soon as it occurred to him. If his current ship suit was too hot in this weather, Jedi robes would be unbearable.

Not to mention a flashing sign saying “shoot me on sight”.

He shoved his hands in his pockets and wandered off, vaguely following Sabine, but really just looking around. There was no Imperial presence -- something that made Tatooine more appealing than Lothal right now. It was nice to be able to walk around without someone recognising him or shouting at him or trying to chase him down and kill him.

A shiver ran down his spine, remembering the Sith Lord for the thousandth time in the past few days. He might be hotter than he’d ever been, but he’d trade this heat for the cold of the Sith’s presence any time.

He was distracted enough by the memory that he didn’t watch where he was walking, and barreled into someone with enough force to make them both stagger.

“Hey, watch where you’re going!” a young voice, good natured enough, belonging to a kid probably about the same age as Ezra, whose hands were steadying his shoulders. Ezra looked up, apologising, into clear blue eyes and a fall of blond hair, and an easy grin that reminded Ezra, strangely, of Hera.

“Sorry,” Ezra said. “Distracted.”

“It’s okay,” the kid said, then looked at him more closely. “You’re not from Anchorhead. I haven’t seen you here before.”

Ezra rubbed the back of his head. “No, ah… I’m visiting. With… uh... my parents.” Nice one Ezra. “They’re traders!”

There had been a cover story but Ezra might not have been paying attention.

“Most traders don’t bother coming this far,” the kid said. He had an easy, friendly manner and Ezra fell into step beside him automatically. They were almost exactly the same height, although Ezra pulled himself up and imagined that he was probably a touch taller. “They usually do their business at Mos Eisley. Why Anchorhead?”

Ezra shrugged. “When mom and dad talk business I tend to get bored with the details.” His companion laughed, then gave him a calculating look, taking in Ezra’s lightsaber (which everyone would mistake for a blaster) and his general air of competence. Ezra stopped himself from actually preening but he definitely enjoyed the fact that side by side, he looked far older, more competent -- more professional than this kid, with his frayed white poncho and dusty leather boots and slow, accented basic.

“So are you free or what?” the kid asked. “A couple of us are going out to the dunes to shoot womp rats. I’d love to see how you handle that blaster.”

“What’s a womp rat?” Ezra asked curiously.

The kid grinned. “They’re pests. We’re doing the town and the farmers around here a favour. Plus it’s fun.” He puffed out his chest. “You can try to beat my record.”

Ezra looked towards Sabine, who was busy haggling in Jawa. It sounded heated, and boring. He shrugged. “Sure,” he said.

“Awesome,” the kid said. “Biggs’ is gonna try to borrow his brother’s T-16 -- we might even get to fly it!”

Ezra chuckled to himself, wondering what else passed for excitement around here that a kid could get excited about shooting vermin and flying a speeder. “What’s your name?” he asked.

“I’m Luke,” the kid said. Ezra stuck out a hand, which was shaken firmly, and Luke gave him another wide grin.

“Ezra,” he replied. Luke laughed and jerked his head towards the edge of town, setting of at a run.

“Well come on then, Ezra!” he shouted over his shoulder.

Ezra shook his head, then sprinted off after him.


	2. Chapter 2

Hera didn't like hanging around in bars as a rule. There was an equal chance she'd be asked either to wait tables, dance, or go home with a patron, and even in this bar, with Kanan as company, dressed her pilot's suit and very obviously armed, she still got a whistle from a passing trader.

Kanan shot her a sympathetic look. There had been a time when he would have gone for his blaster if someone looked at her wrong. They'd gotten into a few unnecessary fights because of that, before she'd managed to convince him that she could look after herself perfectly well and it was part and parcel of being a twi'lek female in public.

That said, the first time he'd leapt to his feet in outrage was a fond memory and she took a moment to dwell on it and smile. Kanan in full rage form was something to behold, even if at the time he had had a few drinks himself. The Zabrak who’d made the comment in the first place had been quick to regret them, what with Kanan’s foot on his throat and most of a bar table smashed over his head.

They’d missed their contact, but Hera considered it worth it. Once.

A bored looking human girl came to their table and gave it a perfunctory wipe with a filthy cloth. “Want anything?” she asked.

Kanan opened his mouth but Hera butted in before he could say anything. “Just kaf, please,” she said. The waitress shrugged and turned to get their drinks, while Kanan gave her a look.

“The kaf here will be terrible,” he said.

“Not as bad as the beer,” she said. He ceded that point to her with a slight shrug.

Kanan didn’t drink the way he’d used to, and hadn’t at all since Ezra had come on board, but Hera knew there was a lot on his mind at the moment, and if there was anything likely to push him towards his old habits, it was the amount of pressure he was under right now.

"Any word on the contact?" Kanan asked.

"They gave us a three hour window, all we have to do is be here."

He stretched one arm across the back of the booth seat and sighed. "I'm not going to complain," he said. "I think this is the most time we've had sitting still since Mustafar."

She shot him a sharp glance. They hadn't discussed what happened there. There hadn't been time.

She wasn’t even sure she wanted to talk about Mustafar with him. When she closed her eyes she could still hear his voice, telling her to leave him. When she closed her eyes, she could still feel the drop in her stomach, the emptiness and panic and loss that had come with understanding Ahsoka’s directive.

Every morning since they’d found him she’d given thanks to Ezra and the others for forcing her hand. If he was ever captured again she wouldn’t hesitate, wouldn’t listen.

She hoped he knew that.

There'd been too much happening for them to talk -- too many missions and not enough down time, most of which had been taken up with Ezra’s training, or running from stormtroopers, or dealing with Sith Lords. He was right that it was nice, just to be in each other’s company, just to be --

\-- together.

Kanan was watching her idly, heavy lidded, and there was a challenge in that gaze.

"You think we're working too hard?" she asked, mirroring his pose, letting her own legs stretch out so they almost touched his feet under the table.

He shook his head. "No," he said. "I just think it's important that we take some time every now and then. To... reconnect."

She leaned forward. "Oh, I'm plenty connected," she said, smiling.

His eyes lit up and he leaned forward as well, one hand reaching out towards hers...

"Kanan Jarrus," a voice said. "You still owe me money."

His eyes widened in sudden panic, and Hera looked up to see their contact standing behind his bench, arms folded across his chest, one eyebrow raised. She recognised him from the holo Fulcrum had given her, brown hair and eyes, an arrogant slant to his head, young and full of himself, like so many smugglers she’d met in her time with the rebellion.

Kanan, though, was reacting differently to how she expected. "Tell me that isn't who I think it is?" he said, voice pained.

So they knew each other. A slight pang of worry was overshadowed by a small thrill of glee. Kanan wasn’t nearly as close mouthed about his past as he’d used to be, but there was always something delightful about bits of that past popping their heads up when he didn’t expect it.

There weren’t a lot of things, these days, that could fluster him.

She chuckled. "I don't know who you think it is, dear,” she said. “Why don’t you give us the pleasure of an introduction?”

The man slid into the booth next to Kanan, all smiles and smooth brown hair. "Han Solo," he said, holding out a hand to her. "And the pleasure is  _all_  mine."


	3. Chapter 3

“You’re a pretty good shot,” Luke said to Ezra, as he dispatched his sixth womp rat. They were bigger than their name suggested - more vicious as well, and they made a pretty terrible sound when a blaster bolt hit them.

He’d felt a little uneasy after shooting the first one - a ripple in the force that reminded him that they were all connected, even creatures like this, but then Biggs (one of Luke’s friends) recounted a story of how his little sister had been attacked by one and nearly lost a leg to infection, and he felt a bit less guilty about reducing their numbers.

“They chew through fuel lines and get tangled up in the moisture vaporators,” Luke said. “My uncle is always complaining that there are too many of them. And sometimes if you collect the tails and take them to a farmer he’ll give you a bounty for clearing them out.”

Ezra, who had spent too long on the streets trying to survive to ever pass up an opportunity for more credits, felt his eyes light up, and Luke gave him a piercing look. “There aren’t any farms this close to town,” he said. “But if you stick around for a while I can show you my uncle’s.”

“I don’t think we’re going to be here for that long,” Ezra said.

A wistful look came over the other boy’s face. “It must be fun, traveling around the galaxy with your parents like that.”

Ezra thought of the Stygian system, and the cold, dead form of Master Luminara. He thought about Mustafar, finding Kanan weak and panting, strapped to a table and in so much pain that he had winced to move.

“I dunno,” Ezra heard himself say. “Sometimes I think it’d be nice not to have to travel so much.” But the only home Ezra had ever known outside the ghost was Lothal, and going back there… well. Thinking about Lothal these days just lead Ezra to remembering the all pervasive cold of the Sith Lord’s presence, the touch of anger, fear and hatred that had almost left him paralysed.

He shuddered, then felt a hand on his arm. Looking up into concerned blue eyes, Ezra had a flash of vision that made him scramble backwards, falling on his backside and gasping. It wasn’t Luke looking down at him any more, it was a black mask with holes for eyes, the hand clutching at his arm wasn’t flesh and blood, it was a mess of circuits and metal, Kanan was dead, Hera was dead, his parents were gone, their message was unheard and he was alone with nothing but his despair and a yawning dark gap that promised him…

… something.

“Hey, Ezra!” a little shake, and instead of the vision of horror there was just Luke, leaning over him, made hazy by the brightness of the two suns behind him. A normal kid, from a backwater world, doing normal kid things. “You okay?”

Ezra blinked, shaken to the core, and swallowed. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah I’m fine.”

The others – there were about six of them altogether including the aforementioned Biggs and a girl a little younger than Sabine, crowded round him, also concerned. Ezra shook off the feeling, getting to his feet. “Sorry,” he said. “It was a long trip from Lothal.”

“You’re from  _Lothal?”_  the girl asked. Camie, her name was, he finally remembered. “That’s where the rebel broadcast came from!”

“Were you there, when it happened?” asked Biggs.

“Is it true the Imperials destroyed their own comm tower?” someone else…

“Did you see anything, do you know who did the broadcast?” the voices were all blurring together at this point.

Ezra, mentally cursing himself for giving away their planet of origin, not that it was likely they’d be heading back there anytime soon, was getting overwhelmed by all their questions. “How did you…?” he started. “How did you know about that?”

“That transmission ended up doing the rounds of the entire outer rim,” Biggs said, nudging the girl next to him, who was nodding enthusiastically. “We all heard it. Janek’s mom managed to get a recording.”

Ezra felt a sudden spark of fear – his voice wouldn’t have sounded the same over the comms and it was pretty obvious they didn’t know he’d been the one talking – but still it was worth remembering that it wasn’t just on Lothal that he was wanted for rebellion against the Empire.

“Wait, what… so you guys…”

“Hate the Empire, sure,” Luke said, as though it was obvious, as though that sort of talk wasn’t enough to get him arrested on Lothal.

Ezra held up his hands. “Easy, easy,” he said, looking around, expecting an Inquisitor or Agent Kallus to turn up. Maybe another Sith lord. These kids were way too casual. No one on Lothal had spoken that carelessly about the Empire since before his parents had disappeared. No one had dared.

“No one likes it,” Luke continued. “It’s just good to know that there are people out there fighting against it.” He looked down at his feet. “Since we can’t do anything from here.”

Ezra felt a spark of something like jealousy, looking at Luke’s earnest face and Biggs’ – and the others all agreeing on how bad the empire was. There weren’t even any stormtroopers in Anchorhead, and there’d been no blockade on the way down to Tatooine. This place was something of a haven, he guessed. Too far away and too worthless for the Empire to bother with.

A good place.

That he was putting in danger, just with his presence.

He sighed and rubbed his eyes. “It’s not safe to just… talk about the Empire like that, at least it wasn’t on Lothal. You should watch yourselves.”

Biggs shrugged. “Tatooine isn’t important enough,” he said, and there was a lot of bitterness there.

“Be grateful for that,” Ezra said. “Seriously.”

The group of kids all looked away, various frustrated expressions taking the place of their earlier enthusiasm.

“I should… really get back,” Ezra said. “My…ma… my parents will be worried.”

Luke offered him a hand, helping him back to his feet. “I’ll walk with you.”

The other kids dispersed and Ezra and Luke were left to trudge back through the dunes to Anchorhead.


	4. Chapter 4

When Kanan had first met Han Solo he’d been a cocky kid not much older than Ezra was, and Kanan hadn’t been much different. He’d thought of himself as a jaded ex-Jedi, a loner who’d seen everything the universe had to offer. In reality he’d been a scared kid with an alcohol problem beyond his years and a whole lot of attitude.

In any case, he’d not much cared if he swindled a street rat out of a couple of credits at cards. He’d been surprised when the kid had turned the game around so comprehensibly, and suspicious enough to check his pockets before agreeing to pay him.

A shake down of the kids’ sleeves had revealed four different complete hands, stashed in different pockets, as well as a tidy collection of winnings from people he’d scammed earlier in the evening. Kanan had let him go -- impressed -- but not without lifting a few of those credits for himself.

These days Solo had filled out a bit, gained a few laugh lines and a lot more charm.

“You have the coordinates?” Hera asked.

"I'm not saying anything until I see your credits,” Solo said. Kanan shuffled around to give the other man a bit more room, noting the worn blaster at his belt and the expensive boots on his feet. Whatever Solo was up to these days, it was paying better than running around for that scumbag Shrike.

Kanan pulled half of their agreed price out of his pouch and set it in front of the other man, who shot Hera an incredulous look, jerking a thumb at Kanan. "You let him carry your money?"

"Kanan's my partner, Captain Solo," Hera said. "And at the moment I trust him a lot more than I trust you."

Solo chuckled, picking up the money and letting it fall through his fingers like he was shuffling a sabacc deck. "Get him to add twenty percent to it. That’ll cover what he owes me."

"I don't owe you anything," Kanan said mildly, not trying to stop himself from being pleased at Hera's "partner" comment. "You cheated."

Solo spread his hands and grinned. "You never proved that," he said. “Just because I’d cheated five other guys before you doesn’t mean…”

"I’m supposed to think you took pity on me and played fair?"

“You  _were_  pretty pitiful.”

With the honesty of hindsight, Kanan had to admit that Solo had a point.

“It’d been a rough couple of days.”

“More like a rough year.”

 _Or three,_  Kanan thought. It had been another two years until he’d met Hera and joined the Ghost. Two years and a lot of empty bottles.

“Coordinates,” Kanan said, flatly. “We can talk about old times… never.”

Solo raised an eyebrow, and Kanan matched it, folding his arms over his chest. The other man shrugged, put the money in his pocket and slapped a datapad down in its place.

"There," he said. Hera took the pad and slid out of the booth “I’ll check these with Chopper and Zeb,” she said, then turned and gave Solo one of her sternest looks. “You better not be scamming us, Captain.”

Solo managed to look contrite and offended at the same time and Hera shook her head, moving to the other side of the bar to talk to the crew back on the Ghost. That left Han and Kanan alone together.

Han was busy watching Hera walk away, an expression lips that the old Kanan would have wanted to punch, but Jedi breathing exercises were good for a lot of things.  _There is no irritating smuggler eyeing your crew. There is only the force._

“Are you still running with Shrike?” he asked. The younger man shrugged.

“Shrike’s looong gone,” he said, and he didn’t try to hide the satisfaction in that comment. “I’m an independent businessman these days.”

“Really.”

“Got myself a ship,” and there was a genuine smile there, pride and satisfaction that Kanan couldn’t help but be pleased for. “You should drop by, play a hand with me and Chewie.” On the other hand, he would sooner eat raw arch grubs than go anywhere near a sabacc deck with Solo again.  
  


“Thought you wanted to join the academy?” Kanan said.

Solo’s expression darkened and he waved a waitress over, ordering something that was probably not appropriate for this time of the morning. “Didn’t work out,” he said lightly. “Any way there’s not much opportunity for profit in the Academy.”  
“And there is, working for the Cartel?”

Han shrugged. “I told you, I’m independent.” Hera made her way back to the table, still talking to Chopper and Zeb on comm as she came. Solo nudged Kanan with an elbow. “You’re keeping a lot better company these days,” he said.

“Yeah, I sure am.” After a moment Kanan realised there was a good chance his face had relaxed into a goofy smile, and he coughed and looked down. “Keep your head together and maybe you’ll find a nice girl to settle down with someday too.”

“I’m a free spirit,” Solo said, leaning back and putting his hands behind his head, one foot up on the table. There was a tightness behind his eyes though, and a ripple in the force. Untold stories that Kanan knew Solo didn’t want to tell.

Hera put one hand on Kanan’s shoulder, finishing up her comm call. “Zeb says the coordinates check out,” Hera she said softly. “A cave out near the dune sea. Better if we all go together though, apparently the locals aren’t very friendly.”

“I wasn’t going to leave the crates anywhere in town,” Solo said. “Jawas everywhere on this rock, they get into anything that isn’t sealed up in titanium.”

“Could be trouble,” Kanan said.

“As I recall, you can handle yourself in a fight,” Solo said. “Even when you’re blind drunk.”

Kanan couldn’t remember precisely how the night with Solo had ended, but it wasn’t really that surprising to learn that there had been fists involved. Hera was looking at him, grinning a little. He shook his head and shrugged, then slid out of the booth. “Get the kids on the comm, we’ll do our pickup.”

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Solo said. Kanan sighed and reached back into his pouch, putting another few credits of Solo’s payment out and setting it on the table. “You’ll get the rest when we have our cargo,” he said. “Stick around.”

The younger man sighed. “Yeah, well I had a few things to catch up on here any way. Contact me when you’ve got your things stowed, we can meet somewhere more exciting than this dump. Maybe have a drink.” He stood up and swept the credits into his hand, giving Hera an elaborate bow as he did so. “A pleasure doing business with you folks,” he said, and was gone before Kanan could say another word.

“He reminds me of Lando,” Hera said, watching him leave.

“Yeah,” Kanan replied. “I never liked him much, either.”

Hera grinned at him. “I didn’t say I didn’t like him.”

Kanan glared at her and she bumped shoulders with him, letting one hand trail down to his and squeezing. He should pull away, but he was above that kind of thing these days, so instead he leaned down and kissed the top of her lekku.

“Better call Ezra and Sabine,” he said. “We’ve got a pickup to make.”


	5. Chapter 5

“Hot out here,” Ezra said as they walked, wiping sweat off his brow and muttering. Getting a good position to aim at the womp rats had meant lying in the sand, and he had grains of the stuff in places that chafed and stuck to the point that walking was getting uncomfortable.  _More_  uncomfortable. He was envying Luke his getup now. The poncho probably gave him more room to breathe, was loose enough that any sand getting in would have an easy way out again, and it had a hood that could be pulled up to shade his eyes from the sun.

The top of Ezra’s black haired head felt so hot it could well have been baking his brain.

“Actually, it’s winter right now,” Luke said, and Ezra gave him an incredulous look. Luke flashed him an impish grin. “We don’t tend to go outside much, in the summer.”

“Yeah, I’m kinda seeing how staying inside would be a good idea,” Ezra replied. Normally he didn’t burn easily -- but out here even his dusky skin was probably turning red.

They trudged in silence for a few minutes. Ezra was certain they hadn’t walked this far earlier, but he couldn’t even see Anchorhead on the horizon.

“What happened back there?” Luke asked him suddenly. “When you fell.”

Ezra frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I… you…” Luke stopped, shaking his head. “You looked scared.”

“Probably just the heat frying my brain,” Ezra said lightly.

“Yeah that wasn’t it,” Luke said, touching his arm, bringing him to a stop and looking him in the eye. “Look. I know who you are. I recognised your voice straight away.”

Ezra swallowed. “My voice?”

Luke rolled his eyes. “Come onnnn, I know you’re the one who made that transmission. So that means the rebels are here, doesn’t it? On this planet.”

Ezra raised his hands and stepped backwards, shaking his head. “No, no you’ve got it all wrong.”

“You’re doing something to strike at the Empire, right here on Tatooine. I want to help! You saw me out there, I’m good with a blaster I can…”

“Are you crazy?”

“I just… I just want to. I don’t know.” He kicked at the sand. “If I could just  _do_ something.”

The kid was so earnest it almost hurt. He had probably never even broken a bone in his life, certainly never been in a firefight with a squadron of Imperial Stormtroopers (or a single Sith Lord). Ezra couldn’t imagine ever having been that naive.

Not since before his parents had disappeared, at least.

“Like what exactly?” he asked, and he didn’t try to soften his words. “You wanna fight the Empire? Have you seen what a squad of stormtroopers can do to a farm? A town? Half the people I grew up with ended up in refugee camps, and then… they…” He shut his eyes, but opened them again when all he could see painted on the inside of his lids was the image of Tarkin Town, burning.  

“I’m tired of just sitting around!” Luke said.

Ezra laughed.

It was a cruel thing to do, and Ezra knew it, but the laugh bubbled up and out before he could hold it back. “You think I’m kidding,” Luke said bitterly. “You think because I live out here and away from everything and everyone that matters -- you think I don’t care?”

“I…”

“None of us want to stay here, not when the Empire is out there hurting people. Just because you get to play hero doesn’t mean the rest of us don’t want to help.” Luke made a frustrated sound and turned away, waving his hand. “Forget it.”

Ezra looked down at his boots, ashamed for a moment, until something else occurred to him.

“Did you tell your friends?” he asked sharply. He felt for Luke, he really did, but if one of the others blabbed about what Luke had discovered Hera and Kanan and the others could be in a world of trouble. “What you thought about me?”

Luke made a face. “No. I’m not stupid. I don’t want to give you away. I just…”

“What? What do you want?”

Luke flopped down on a nearby rock and pulled his knees up to his chest, sighing. “I just feel like there’s something more. Something I should be doing. Someone I need to be.”

Ezra let out a breath and sat opposite him. “Well I know  _that_  feeling,” he said.

Luke laughed a little sadly. “I’m missing something,” he said, looking back towards the suns. “I feel like I’ve been missing something my whole life. I don’t know what it is, but I know I want to find it.”

The two boys sat in silence for a moment, looking out over the dunes. It was peaceful here, despite the sand and the heat. But lonely.

“Hey I’m sorry I yelled at you,” Ezra said finally.

Luke shrugged. “It’s okay,” he said. “I was being stupid.”

“No, you weren’t,” Ezra said. “But…” There wasn’t much Ezra could say to him, really. Before he’d met Kanan and Hera he’d not wanted to fight against the Empire. He’d been too busy trying to survive. It’d taken their selflessness -- their resolve -- to remind him where he came from. When he fought, with a lightsaber or without it, he thought of them, not of his parents.

When he’d made the transmission his parents had been in the back of his mind.  _We do what we do so everyone can be free, Ezra. You’ll understand why that’s so important someday._ There was more than one way to fight.

He sighed. “Luke, you’ve got a place here, and it’s a good place. Don’t be in such a hurry to give up your friends and your family. Some of us aren’t given a choice about that.” Luke looked up at him, unconvinced, but at least thinking about it. “And hey, you’ve got time. Who knows? Maybe the rebellion will come here recruiting one day.”

“Not today, though,” Luke said, raising one eyebrow.

Ezra shook his head. “Not today.”

Ezra’s comm beeped and Kanan’s voice floated up from his belt.  _“Ezra we’ve got a pick-up to make and Sabine says you wandered off hours ago. Where are you?”_

He unhooked the comm from his belt and opened his mouth to answer, then looked at Luke. “Um. Where  _are_  we, exactly?”

Luke grinned. “Edge of the dune sea.” The kid checked one of the gadgets on his belt, and gave him a set of coordinates, which he relayed back to Kanan.

 _“What are you even doing out there?”_  Kanan sounded grumpy, and Ezra wondered if the contact had gone sour.  _“Never mind. You’re closer to the pick up than we are we’ll come and get you on the way.”_

“Roger that,” Ezra said.

“Are they going to fly their ship here?” Luke asked. “Can I wait with you?”

Ezra sighed. “Sure,” he said. “Should be here any minute.”

They didn’t have long to wait. The familiar whine of the Ghost’s engines was audible a few minutes later. When the hatch opened, Hera and Kanan were standing there waiting for him, with four of their speeders.

“Those are your  _parents?”_  Luke said. “How does that even work?”

Ezra almost laughed. “It’s… complicated,” he said.

“Ezra!” Kanan called. “Who’s your friend?” he walked down the ramp towards them. Ezra did a quick check to make sure his master wasn’t wearing his lightsaber openly -- he wasn’t -- then waved.

“This is Luke,” Ezra said. Luke gave them a distracted nod, but was too busy goggling at the Ghost to notice anything more about Ezra’s “parents”.

“That’s a really nice ship,” Luke said.

“Why thank you,” Hera said, winking at him. “She’s my pride and joy.”

Sabine lead a couple of the speeders down the ramp and Ezra cocked his head. “We’re not flying?”

“The terrain’s too rough for the Ghost or the Phantom to set down safely,” Kanan said. “We’ll have to go overland. Say goodbye to your friend, Ezra, I’m afraid we’ve got work to do.”

Luke was shifting from foot to foot. “Look I know the area around here pretty well, I can show you the quickest route to get to… wherever it is you’re going…”

“Thanks for the offer, kid,” Kanan said. “But this is business and we prefer not to get anyone else involved.”

“He knows who we are,” Ezra blurted.

Kanan stopped and both he and Hera gave Ezra identical looks. Ezra took a step back. “It’s not my fault!” he said, holding up his hands. “He recognised my voice from the transmission…”

“The transmission reached here?” Hera’s stern expression melted into a smile. “Ezra, your parents would be proud.” Ezra blushed and looked down, rubbing the back of his head, but Kanan’s brow furrowed even further.

“Hera that’s not good,” Kanan said. “If this kid could recognise Ezra’s voice then there’s a chance other people can too.”

“It’s okay!” Luke said. “I didn’t tell anyone. And the others didn’t recognise him. It’s just… I’ve listened to it a few times.”

“Our Ezra has a way with words,” Sabine said, chuckling, even as Zeb came down behind her.

“Yeah, like the part where too many of them come out of his mouth,” the Lasat said.

“There are sand people around here,” Luke said. “It’s pretty dangerous. I really can help you.”

“If it’s dangerous the best thing you can do is go home, kid,” Zeb said.

“I can handle myself.” Kanan looked at Hera and she smiled, rolling her eyes. “At least let me look at the coordinates, if I can’t go with you I can give you some advice.”

Kanan gave Ezra a piercing look, and Ezra felt a small push from the force. Do you trust him?

Ezra gave a small nod. There was no deception in Luke that he could feel.

“Fine,” Kanan said, then turned to Luke. “No running back to your friends and telling them everything about us, okay?”

“I won’t!” Luke sounded entirely too chipper about that, but Ezra figured anything he could tell them about the Ghost wouldn’t be a problem, especially since it was hardly likely to get back to the Empire when there wasn’t a star destroyer or an outpost anywhere within three systems of Tatooine.

And it wasn’t as though they’d be coming back here any time soon.

“What, are we collecting human kids now?” Zeb grumbled, bumping into Ezra.

“Luke’s all right,” Ezra said. “Don’t be..”

“What?”

“Don’t be you, Zeb, okay? He’s… going through stuff.”

Sabine snorted. “Look who’s growing up,” she said, and Ezra had to resist the urge to force push the Lasat on his backside for laughing.


	6. Chapter 6

Ezra’s new friend definitely knew the terrain well, having him along for the ride almost certainly saved them a dive into a ravine, a run in with a bunch of sand people and an attack by some sort of big six legged lizard creature. For a desert planet, Tatooine certainly seemed packed with life.

Hera liked it. The heat reminded her of Ryloth, even if the sand blasted yellows and browns were nothing like the dusky reds and greys of the countryside around her home.

Luke rode on the back of Kanan’s speeder, directing him by shouting instructions in his ear. The going would have been far slower without his help, and they reached the cave in under an hour.

“You’re not going to get in trouble for this, are you?” Sabine asked him as they dismounted.

Luke shrugged. “It’s not harvest time,” he said. “My uncle is mostly trying to find ways to get me out from under his feet.” He gave her an easy grin and a shrug. “As long as I’m back before dark and finish my lessons, I’m free.”

“Huh,” Zeb said. “Parents these days are pretty lenient.”

“It’s different at Harvest,” Luke said. “I have to work all day. Aunt Beru keeps telling Uncle Owen we need more droids but I think we just haven’t saved enough this cycle.” Luke shrugged. “It’s okay I guess.” He glanced at Ezra. “Better than some people have it.”

“Sounds like a lot of hard work to me,” Kanan said. “It’s good that you’re helping them out. Moisture farmers around here don’t get enough credit the economy would collapse pretty quick without them” Zeb gave Kanan a look and Kanan shrugged at him. “What? A guy can’t be interested in local politics? Not knowing anything about the planets we visit is a pretty good way to run into trouble with the authorities, Zeb.”

“Yeah that’s why we have you and Hera, boss, to do all the boring stuff while we have all the fun.”

“It’s only boring if you don’t know the context...” Kanan said.

“Fascinating as this is,” Hera interrupted. “That looks like the cave we need.”

A deep gorge led to an ominous dark hole in a steep cliffside. The gorge was so narrow that no sunlight reached its bottom, its sides rocky and loose and probably impossible to climb. Tactically it was not a nice place to walk into.

“Waay too easy to get boxed in there,” Sabine said. “I don’t like it.”

“Ezra and I will go ahead,” Kanan said, reaching into his speeder and drawing out his lightsaber. He hooked it in it’s place -- disassembled -- on his belt. “You guys stay here.”

“I can come,” Luke said. Ezra and Kanan looked at each other with almost identical expressions on their faces. Physically, they looked nothing alike, but it was hard to think of them as anything other than father and son sometimes.

The bond between a master and a padawan, Hera supposed.

“No,” they said, together. Luke frowned. “You’ve done enough,” Ezra continued as they turned towards the cave.

“You can borrow one of the speeders,” Hera said. “Go back to your uncle and aunt. Sabine will come and pick it up once we’re done here.”

“I…”

“Here,” Hera took a few credits from her pouch and offered them to Luke. “For being our guide. We owe you our thanks, but maybe this will help more?”

“I don’t need your money,” Luke said, confused and hurt.

“But you can use it,” Hera said. “And you’ve earned it. This is a job for us, Luke, and you’ve earned your share of the pay.” She gave him a reassuring smile. “For being part of the crew.”

He looked up at her, eyes wide. She guessed he was the same age as Ezra, but without the hard edges and hurt that Ezra held inside himself all the time. Luke had grown up on a farm, loved, watched over and cared for. His security had never been ripped away the way Ezra’s had. Still, the two boys related to each other in ways that Ezra couldn’t with her, or with Kanan or even with Sabine. Seeing Ezra alongside Luke, knowing that on the Ghost he was loved again, part of a _family..._ well it made her hope that someday his smile would come as easy as Luke’s.

Luke took the money and nodded. “Okay,” he said, then looked at the speeders, shrugging. “I may as well wait for you to take me back,” he said. “I don’t need to borrow a speeder, and you don’t want to miss that ravine on the way back -- it doesn’t look the same from the other side.”

It would be safer for him if they went back together, although it was pretty obvious this hadn’t been the first time he’d been wandering the wastes on his own. Zeb was probably right, Luke’s aunt and uncle were perhaps a little too lenient with the boy.

She nodded at him. “Okay.”

Kanan and Ezra, meanwhile, were going down into the gorge. They moved similarly, Hera realised, watching them, their heads swinging from side to side that told her they were reaching out with the force, not just with their regular senses. A handy skill, to check if anything alive had decided to take up residence in the cave before they disturbed it and potentially became its lunch.

At the mouth of the cave she saw them pause, Kanan put one hand on Eza’s shoulder and talk to him for a second before both of them nodded, separating out and entering the cave at different points.

The explosion that collapsed the entrance was so loud that Hera couldn’t hear herself scream.

Rocks and dust burst out from the cave entrance in a horrifying fountain while Hera, instincts kicking in, grabbed Luke and dove for the nearest cover. For a moment she thought that the ground itself was also erupting, snapping vibrations thudding up from under the sand rhythmically all around them ending in holes opening up and sand people bursting from the earth, their guttural calls slowly becoming audible as echoes of the explosion died. She couldn’t see the cave at all any more -- dust billowed out and around in a storm that would take minutes to clear, minutes that were going to be dearly paid for if they didn’t fight off the approaching storm of Sand people.

They were mostly armed with the stick like weapons that Luke had called gaffi sticks, but a few blaster shots told her they had other weapons as well. She drew her own blaster, trying to shield Luke as much as possible behind the speeder, and started shooting back.

Next to her Sabine was picking off Sand people with her blasters, precisely and calmly, while Zeb gave a great shout and twirled his battlestaff, knocking another to the ground. “What do you think this was then?” Sabine said. “A trick by our contact?”

Hera shook her head. “He would have just taken the cargo,” she said. “He didn’t need to lure us out here.”

“The Sand people would have seen him deliver it,” Luke said, and she was surprised that he had his blaster out and was using it almost as effectively as Sabine. “They probably set the ambush to see what else they could snag.”  
“I don’t understand!” Zeb said. “Shouldn’t the kid and Kanan been able to sen…”

Sabine shoved Zeb aside and blasted another Sand person who was launching itself towards Hera and Luke’s position.

“They travel underground,” Luke shouted. “When the cave blew it must have been a signal to attack, they could have come from as far as three klicks from here.”

That would explain why Ezra and Kanan hadn’t been able to sense them through the force. They would have been looking for organics much closer, inside the cave.

Hera mentally thanked Sabine’s quick thinking -- cutting off Zeb before he could give too much away about the nature of Ezra and Kanan -- but she wasn’t even sure that it mattered any more. “Ezra!” she shouted into comm. “Ezra, do you read?” A sand person suddenly appeared directly in front of their speeder, screaming. She shot it through the head and it collapsed, found two other targets and continued blasting. “Kanan?  _Ezra can you hear me?”_

There was no answer.


	7. Chapter 7

_“Ezra. Ezra. Kanan? Are you all right? Can you hear me?”_  Hera’s voice over the comm was breathless and Ezra thought he could hear blaster fire in the background, but getting his hand to his comm was more difficult than it should have been.

_“Kanan? Ezra? Are you alive? We’re under heavy fire and have to retreat. Can you hear us?”_

His hand reached the comm, and he flicked it on. “Alive,” he said, then he was overcome by a fit of coughing. The dust and debris from the collapse covered him almost completely, but he wasn’t hurt that he could feel.

_“Ezra thank the goddess, is Kanan there?”_

“I don’t know. I’ll check.” Ezra swallowed, blinking in the pitch darkness. He couldn’t see anything, and started patting around himself in the black, trying to find a trace of his master. After a few moments of this he cursed himself for being stupid, and shut his eyes, reaching out through the force.

At first there was nothing. His heart tried to climb out of his throat in sudden, desperate worry.  _I just got him back no you can’t you can’t take him now…_

_“Ezra?”_

There. A faint flicker of life -- the pulse of the force. Ezra scrambled towards it, hands out until they met dusty cloth. “Kanan?” he felt along the cloth until his hand touched skin, the rough hair of his master’s beard. “Hera he’s here.” Ezra’s fingers felt over Kanan’s face, and came away sticky.  _No. Oh no. No no no._  “But he’s hurt.”

He heard her swear, and another flurry of blaster bolts. _“We can’t maintain position,”_  she said.  _“We’re going to try to draw the sand people away, then find a way to come back and dig you out.”_

The panic that had ebbed sensed Kanan threatened to overwhelm him again. “Okay,” he managed to get out, shakily. “Okay I understand. I’ll…” He didn’t have any medical supplies, any food or water, he wasn’t even sure that the cave would have enough air for very long, it certainly felt close and suffocating right now. He worked to keep his voice steady. “I’ll take care of him until you get back.”

There was a pause. _“Thank you,”_  she said.  _“You’re strong enough for this, Ezra. I trust you.”_

The comm went dead, and Ezra was left in darkness.

The only sound he could hear now was the beat of his heart, too fast and loud in his ears. It was a moment before he thought to ignite his lightsaber, and he did so. The saber didn’t illuminate much of their surroundings, but he could see Kanan’s face now, looking deathly pale in the blue light, streaked with blood and dust. He carefully balanced the lightsaber on a pile of rocks -- tricky to get it to stay lit and steady -- then gently probed Kanan’s face and head, feeling for what had caused the blood. While he wasn’t particularly familiar with the contours of his master’s skull as a rule, there was a significant lump near his temple that wasn’t echoed on the other side, and fresh blood seeped from it. Ezra knew the force could be used for healing but he had no idea how to even begin -- even knowing that a head injury like this could easily be fatal, he had to settle for gently laying Kanan’s head back in the dirt and going over the rest of him for other injuries.

He’d managed to ascertain that there were no broken bones at least, and was trying to find if his master had any other open and bleeding wounds when Kanan started stirring. He mumbled something under his breath that Ezra couldn’t make out, brow furrowing.

“Kanan?” Ezra said. “Kanan are you…”

Kanan convulsed sitting upright and knocking Ezra’s lightsaber out of it’s niche. Ezra had to react fast to grab the blade before it sliced off Kanan’s arm at the shoulder, and he switched it to off, plunging them both back into darkness. “Master!” Ezra heard Kanan shout, voice hoarse with dust and strain. “No!”

Ezra threw an arm across Kanan’s shoulders trying to stop him from leaping to his feet and hurting himself even more. He could feel the breath heaving through the man’s frame, then felt a hand on his. “Ezra?”

“Kanan!” the rush of relief he felt made Ezra’s hands shake. “You’re all right?”

“Hell of a headache,” Kanan said, letting out a groan. “What happened?”  
“There was an explosion, it collapsed the cave entrance.”

“The others?”

“Outside, fighting sand people. Hera said they were going to draw them away, then come back and dig us out.”

Kanan grunted. “Dark,” he said. There was a few seconds where Ezra could hear him fumbling with something, then a click and a small snap flare -- far more effective than the lightsaber had been -- lit the area around them.

The space was smaller than Ezra had at first thought, or maybe the explosion had done damage further into the cave as well as to the entrance. It was a relief (something of one at least) to see that the cargo they’d come for was still stacked in crates against one wall. Only one of the crates had broken open, spilling weapons and armour across the cave floor. He took a moment to lament that they hadn’t been coming to pick up medical supplies, before examining the rest of their surroundings.

The mouth of the cave was piled high with rubble and larger rocks. Moving any one of them could bring the rest down, and without knowing exactly how each piece interlocked with every other piece, Ezra’s small hope that they could use the force to dig their way out was crushed. If they even nudged the wrong stone, shifted the wrong bit of rubble, they could end up burying themselves even more thoroughly.

Kanan made a small, painful sound as the light hit and covered his eyes with one hand. “Ow,” he said.

“You hit your head,” Ezra said.

“I think a rock hit it, actually,” Kanan said. He tried to get to his feet, then stopped and turned away, retching.

“Are you all right?”

“Probably,” Kanan said, turning back and wiping his mouth. He looked white and strained in the light from the lamp. “I’ve had worse. But there’s a bigger problem than my head right now.”

“What’s that?”

Kanan sucked in a breath and shook his head. “Air. We’re running out. The collapse must have sealed the cave completely, I figure we’ve got two hours, maybe three before we’ll be unconscious.”

Ezra scrambled for his comm. “We need to call Hera!”

Kanan reached out and stopped Ezra with one hand. “She’ll be back as soon as she can,” he said. “No point in making her worry any more than she is already.”

“But what if…”

“Trust me, Ezra. There’s a way we can get through this, buy ourselves some more time. But it’s…” Kanan stopped, blinking his eyes rapidly for a moment. It was hard to see in the light, but Ezra thought he could see sweat beading on the older man’s brow, and Kanan swallowed a few times before he could continue talking. “It’s a difficult technique and you’re going to have to pay close attention.”

“Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. But you need to focus, all right? It’s important.”

Ezra hadn’t really mastered the art of meditation as yet -- Kanan said he was too unfocused, too full of -- what did he call it? “energetic enthusiasm”. When Ezra used the force, he imagined he could feel it bubbling through him, dancing and twisting like a fast running stream over a rocky bed. Getting it to obey his commands took concentration -- like trying to hold a squirming tusk cat -- and it was only when he was under heavy stress that he felt he could use it instinctively. While he knew he would have to be able to sink into meditation as quickly and easily as Kanan did some day, it hadn’t seemed like the most useful Jedi skill to practice. Especially not beside say… using two lightsabers at once, the way Kanan had done against the Inquisitor at Mustafar.

A few days after that encounter, Kanan had caught him trying to use both lightsabers with a practice droid. He’d been pulled by his ear into the ship and lectured for nearly an hour about  _that_ one.

Right now, though, he didn’t think he’d be able to reach the trance like state that Kanan said was necessary to lower his body temperature and slow his breathing to a point where it would be useful to them at all. He couldn’t stop thinking about Hera’s voice, panicked and breathy over the comm -- the blaster fire (he hadn’t thought to ask if the others were all right -- what about Sabine and Zeb? What about Luke?), couldn’t smooth away the sick dread in his stomach that Kanan was hurt far more badly than he was letting on.

“Ezra you have to focus,” Kanan’s voice (did it sound weaker?) was stern. “Here.” His master leaned over and smothered the snap flare. “It’ll be less distracting.”

Ezra felt a scream bubble up in his throat, even though he was not afraid of the dark and never had been. For a second he felt a deep pit of cold, as though he were standing on the edge of an abyss, ready to plunge into something… something else, something familiar... Then he felt Kanan’s hands take his, warm and strong. “Breathe, Ezra,” Kanan said. “Breathe and focus. You’ll be fine. I promise.”

Ezra closed his eyes and did as he was told.


	8. Chapter 8

Firefights were exhilarating in their own way, and Hera had been in her fair share of them, but when she was worried sick about Kanan (a state of mind that had been almost constant since he’d joined her crew, she wasn’t going to deny it) and with the double worry of Ezra left alone, in the dark and responsible, none of the fun was left.

Even Sabine, who could look on the bright side of almost any fight, was grim and precise as she shot blast after blast into the surging sand people.

It took her a little while to realise that the Sand people were trying to get them to abandon the speeders. Of course, if they’d set up the trap, they’d done it to try to milk as much as possible out of the cargo that they’d come to pick up. Leave the cargo as bait, collapse the cave, then kill the people who’d come to salvage it. She didn’t doubt that they had a plan to not only scavenge the speeders, but go back to town and take the Ghost as well, something that definitely wasn’t going to happen any time soon, at least not as long as she drew breath.

“They want the speeders,” Hera said.

“Maybe if we fly out of here they’ll follow us and we can loop round?” Sabine suggested.

“They’ll want what’s in the cave as well,” Hera said. “We can’t afford for them to stay here and dig through -- they’ll kill Kanan and Ezra.”

“So what do we do?”

“There’s someone nearby who might be able to help,” Luke said. Hera had almost forgotten that he was there, but he seemed calm and focused, adding his own blaster fire to theirs. The kid was steady in a fight. Lucky for thiem.

“You’ve got friends around here?” Zeb said, “doesn’t really seem like your type of place.”

“Well,” Luke looked a bit embarrassed. “He’s not exactly my friend. And my uncle would be mad if he knew I’d been talking to him.”

“Luke,” Hera said, “at this point I’d accept help from a rancor breeder, where is he?”

“Follow me!”

Before Hera could stop him, Luke leapt up and onto Kanan’s speeder, swinging it around with considerable skill and starting off back in the direction of the Dune sea.

“Kiiiiddd!” Zeb growled, covering him with his staff and motioning to Sabine and Hera to follow.

“He reminds me of Ezra!” Sabine shouted as she jumped on her own speeder and started off after Luke.

“Just what we needed, two of the lothrats. Go Hera, I’ll be with you in a minute.” Zeb punctuated his sentence by slamming his staff into one sand person, sending them flying into another, then shooting a third. Hera, confident that Zeb could handle himself, jumped on her own speeder and followed Sabine and Luke.

The sand people were obviously more interested in what was in the cave than in them, and they had Ezra’s speeder as extra salvage. Hera suspected it would be stripped down for parts long before they managed to get home -- a big loss, but not as bad as losing the cargo  _and Kanan and Ezra_  -- would be.

Luke, once again, seemed to know where he was going, and handled the speeder far better than she would have expected. They had a hard time keeping up with him, but it wasn’t too long before they pulled up next to a simple hut, set on the edge of the Dune Sea. It had a good aspect out over moisture farms on one side, and Hera could just make out Anchorhead on the horizon. A lonely place, but she could see the appeal.

Luke jumped down from the speeder and raced to the door, raising his hand to knock. The door, however, opened before he had the chance, and a man stepped out.

Hera wasn’t great at judging the ages of humans over about forty -- but this man seemed a good deal too old to be much help against a horde of sand people. Tall, with a white beard and white hair, he stooped down to listen to Luke as the boy started talking enthusiastically and quickly to him, nodding occasionally. When Luke had finished a somewhat garbled explanation of what was going on (without mentioning that they were rebels, Hera was pleased to note) the old man raised his head and fixed Hera with a piercing look that reminded her of Bail Organa.

“This is Ben,” Luke said, bouncing up to them. “Ben, this is Hera and Sabine and Zeb, they need help.”

“Sand people, eh?” Ben said, smiling indulgently down at Luke. “They’ve been getting more bold around here lately.”

Hera nodded. “Seems like this is a pretty dangerous area to live by yourself,” she said.

“I’m not a big fan of crowds,” Ben said. “And I can take care of myself. Luke here visits every now and then and if I get too lonely I can walk into Anchorhead. Not much cause for it these days though.”

Sabine cocked an eyebrow at Hera. Anchorhead was at least half a day away from them now and the thought of this old man walking that whole distance and back was a little difficult to swallow.

It didn’t matter though, not now, not when Kanan and Ezra were in danger. “I’m sorry to be hasty,” Hera said. “But our friends are trapped in a cave a few kilometres from here,” she said. “We can’t dig them out while the sand people are there and Luke seems to think you could give us a hand with that? We have credits if you need…”

The old man laughed. “Oh, no my dear, don’t you worry about that. I’m not doing anything out here on my own any way. Just let me get a few things.” He patted Luke’s shoulder again, the boy looking a little embarrassed but smiling. “You’re sure your friends are alive?”

“We talked to Ezra on comm. He said Kanan…” her voice cracked a little. “He said Kanan was hurt, but they’re both still alive.”

Ben turned and waved them into the house. “Well if they’re hurt I can probably help with that as well. But the first priority will have to be getting rid of the sand people.”

Inside was cluttered and dark, but surprisingly cool. A large selection of scrap electronics was piled in one corner and a small kitchen that was sparsely equipped but painstakingly neat. A single, messed bed and a shelf stacked with holo projectors and books made up the rest of the furniture. There was a beautiful woven matt covering the middle of the floor and Hera frowned at it. The pattern seemed familiar but she couldn’t place from where.

“How do you plan to do that, sir?” Sabine asked as the man pottered around, picking up things seemingly at random and putting them in a small backpack. Despite railing against her Academy days, they had definitely taught Sabine good manners. On the surface, at least.

Ben smiled at her. “I have a few tricks up my sleeves, young lady, never you mind. Will it be all right if I share your speeder on the way there?”

“Sure,” Sabine said, shrugging.

“It’s a bit far for me to walk on these old legs.” He swung the pack onto his back and motioned for them to go back outside, where Luke and Zeb were waiting by the speeders. Ben hesitated a moment, then looked at Luke. “You should stay here. Your uncle won’t like it if I take you back into danger.”

“No way,” Luke said, crossing his arms over his chest. “Ezra’s my friend. I need to help out.”

Ben’s expression turned troubled, and Hera thought he was going to argue, but then he shrugged. “Well I’m not going to get into a fight with you about it, but I expect you to stay well back and let the rest of us handle it.”

Luke looked resentful, but gave Ben a short nod.

“Young lady,” Ben said to Hera. “Describe the environment around this cave for me, so I have an idea of how we should go about this.”

Hera nodded and knelt in the sand, grabbing a small rock from the ground to draw a rough sketch of the terrain as she remembered it in the sand. Kanan was better at this sort of thing -- his tactical mind was one of the main reasons she’d wanted to recruit him after Gorse -- but you didn’t grow up the daughter of a freedom fighter without learning a few things about how to plan an attack.

What surprised her was how good Ben seemed to be at following her directions. It only took her a few seconds to get across the layout to him, and then he started giving them instructions on what to do.

“Are you sure about this Hera?” Zeb asked. They were in position near the mouth of the cave, under cover. Down in the gorge they could see sand people painstakingly digging and shifting the stones that were blocking the cave entrance. They’d managed a lot more than she’d thought they’d be able to in the short time they’d been away, and she could only hope the plan that Ben had come up with would work the way he wanted it to.

“The plan is sound, if he’s right about how easily frightened the sand people are of this thing,” she said. “All we need is a bit of time to dig them out and grab the cargo.”

“We’re gonna be cutting it fine,” Zeb said. “If Kanan and Ezra are too far in we’ll end up in another firefight.”

“We’ll have to worry about that when the time comes,” Hera said. “Luckily the sand people have already done a lot of our work for us.”

They had. The rubble was being cleared at an alarming rate. She remembered that Luke said they traveled under the sand -- through tunnels that they dug themselves. It was obvious that they knew the land and how to shape it far better than the Ghost crew.

“It’s nearly time,” Sabine said over comm. “Have you been able to contact Ezra?”

Hera swallowed. They’d tried, as soon as they’d gotten within range, but neither Kanan nor Ezra had answered their hails. It was possible they were just too far away, or that the rubble was disrupting comms, but Hera sported a cold knot of fear in her belly that they were already too late.

“No,” she said. “But don’t give up hope. Ezra’s tougher than any of us know, and Kanan wouldn’t give up on him now.”

“If he’s even got a choice,” Zeb grumbled.

An unearthly howl broke out across the landscape, so loud it made Hera’s head ring and her blood run cold. She’d been expecting it, but she was still shocked how much her instincts screamed at her to run -- run as far and as fast as she could. The sand people didn’t bother even trying to fight their instincts, and scattered, dropping tools and leaving Ezra’s half-disassembled speeder where it lay.

“Karabast,” Zeb breathed. “I really hope that was the old man and not an actual one of whatever those things are.”

“Kayt Dragon,” Hera said. “I would be happy if I never met one too. Come on,”

They scrambled down to the mouth of the cave and started moving stones. Zeb was big enough to shift a lot of debris on his own, and Hera had been right -- the sand people had been very close to breaking through already. When Ben joined them a few moments later, the work progressed even more quickly. For an older man he was surprisingly adept, both at spotting which rocks would be best to move and at moving them. He had a lot more strength than Hera could have anticipated in such a wiry frame.

Sabine and Luke, who were too small to be much help in heavy lifting and too full of nervous energy to be useful otherwise, were up on the ridge scouting for the return of the sand people when they finally broke through into the darkness of the cave beyond.

“Ezra?” Hera called. “Ezra can you hear us?”

There was no answer and Hera looked at Ben desperately. The old man was frowning, eyes closed, head tilted to one side in a pose that reminded her of something. Of someone.

Of Kanan.

“Can you call your friend… Sabine was it?” Ben said. “And ask her to keep Luke away for a while? I have a suspicion that your friends won’t want anyone else seeing this.”

Seeing what? She wanted to ask, but by that stage Zeb had cleared enough of the opening for them to be able to see properly inside, and she understood.

Wordlessly, she flicked on her comm and did as Ben had asked. Sabine sounded confused, but agreed, even as Zeb swore again and Hera blinked.

Ezra and Kanan sat facing each other in a small patch of cleared floor, both in meditation pose. Their eyes were closed and there was a soft glow around them. She’d only seen it a few times before, when Kanan meditated, and she knew it marked them both as Jedi.

_Oh no._

Ben didn’t seem fazed by what he could see, although his brow was furrowed. “The elder one… what did you say his name was, Hera?” All trace of the slightly bumbling old man had disappeared from his voice, and Ben now sounded clipped and precise, asking questions in a manner that reminded her of her father.

“Kanan,” she said. She knew it wasn’t Kanan’s real name, but right now she wasn’t going to offer Ben any further information than that. He looked at her sharply, but she pressed her lips together and narrowed her eyes. Ben’s lip twitched and he gave her a slight nod, impressed, she thought.

“He cannot break the trance. He is hurt. If I give you my word that I will not harm either of them, will you trust me?”

“What’s wrong with them?” Zeb asked.

“It’s a Jedi technique,” Ben said.

“Yeah well I didn’t think they were glowing because they were happy,” Zeb said.

“Forgive me,” Ben said. “I wasn’t sure if you all knew.”

Hera glanced at Zeb, who shrugged. “We knew,” he said.

Hera kept her expression neutral, but folded her arms across her chest, waiting. Ben sighed. “At a guess your friend  _Kanan,”_  he gave her a small smile, letting her know he knew that name was false, “has not initiated it with his padawan before now. Ezra is being held in the trance by Kanan, but Kanan is all but unconscious and cannot make the disconnect. I shall have to do it for him.”

“How do you…?”

“They were not the only ones to escape, my friend,” Ben said softly. “But surely you already knew that?”

“You’re Jedi too?” Zeb said. “What are you doing out here then? Don’t you know there’s a rebellion going on out …” Hera shook her head and pulled Zeb back.

“We need his help,” she said, then looked past Zeb to Ben. “I’m going to trust you,” she said. “But only because you don’t feel like a servant of the emperor.”

Ben’s expression darkened. “I give you my word,” he said. “That is one thing I absolutely am not.”

“Well then,” Hera took a deep breath. “Please, help my friends.”

Ben climbed, surefooted and nimble, into the cave and sat in front of Kanan and Ezra, reaching out his hands to touch each of their shoulders. He mimicked their pose, aside from his hands, and closed his eyes.

Nothing happened for a few moments. Hera found she was holding her breath, while Zeb was low key growling under his. Then Ezra’s eyes blinked open.

And Kanan fell.

Ben was fast, and caught Kanan as he went, letting him down to the ground gently, and Hera found she’d lunged forward as if she could reach him before the old man. Ezra looked pale but whole, and was shaking his head and getting to his feet.

Kanan, though, was white around his mouth, blood streaked down his face, breath coming fast and shallow.

“He’s fading,” Ben said.

 _“Hera, we’ve got sand people incoming,”_  Sabine said over comm.

“We need to get him back to my house,” Ben said. “You, Lasat, help me get him onto a speeder. You’ll have to cradle him while we fly.”  
“Hera? Zeb?” Ezra seemed groggy and unfocused, rubbing his hand over his eyes and trying to stay upright. “What’s going on?”

“Ezra, there’s no time,” Hera held out a hand to him, helping him over the last of the rocks. She pulled him into a fierce hug, even as Sabine and Luke appeared over the edge of the gorge. Ben and Zeb managed to get Kanan onto the speeder, cradled in Zeb’s arms like a child, and Ezra sat in front of Hera. A blaster shot ricocheted off the rocks in front of Hera, and Luke shouted to Ben, who vaulted up behind him with the energy of a far, far younger man.

Or a Jedi.

“What about the cargo?” Zeb shouted, as they sped away, the hoots and cheers of the sand people echoing behind them.

Hera shook her head and clenched her teeth. “It’s lost,” she said. “We failed.” She glanced over at Kanan, limp in Zeb’s arms.

_Please let the cargo be the only thing we’ve lost today._


	9. Chapter 9

Shaking off the trance was more difficult than Ezra had thought it would be. Hera’s warmth behind him on the bike was welcome despite the heat, and he kept blinking his eyes against the glare of the suns. 

He couldn’t remember what had happened after falling into the trance. Time had passed, he knew that, but _how_ he knew it was uncertain. There was an echo of pain in his head and a heaviness in his limbs. Who was the old man? Why did they trust him? They were questions that made his aching head throb even more, and he could only hope that Hera and the others were better equipped at answering them.

“Shouldn’t we be taking him to a hospital?” Sabine said.

“I think Ben will be able to help him better than they could,” Hera said. “And a hospital would be too far. Kanan needs help now.”

“What’s wrong with him?” Luke asked.

“He hit his head. The cave… when the explosion happened. I don’t know exactly how but he was unconscious for a while…”

“It’s not your fault Ezra,” Hera said, cutting him off. She didn’t want him to reveal that they’d been in a trance, he realised. It was one thing for Luke to know that they were the rebels from Lothal, quite another to let loose that Kanan and he were force users. _That_ little piece of information hadn’t become public knowledge, neither the rebellion nor the empire were ready to let people know that the Jedi were not extinct.

When they arrived at the small hut Ben jumped down from his speeder and helped Zeb move Kanan inside. Ezra moved to follow him but Ben shook his head. “I’m sorry, young one,” the old man said. “I know you want to help, but right now the only person who can do that is me.”

Hera didn’t even try to negotiate, however, and simply pushed in with Zeb and Ben only gave her a brief glance before nodding. She had the right, Ezra supposed. She’d been with Kanan the longest.

He felt Luke’s hand on his shoulder. “Ben will look after him,” he said, as Zeb lumbered back out of the hut and went to check on the speeders. 

“Is he a doctor?” Ezra said. “I don’t know, Luke, he just seems…”

“He’ll look after him. Don’t worry.”

 _How do you know, why do you trust him?_ The questions died on Ezra’s lips and Luke led him away from the hut, his hand still on Ezra’s arm, back towards Sabine and Zeb. 

“He’ll be all right, kid,” Zeb said. “I’ve seen him hurt worse than this.”

“Yeah,” Sabine said. “Kanan’s tough.”

Ezra swallowed. 

 

***

“I know you,” Hera said to Ben, as soon as they were out of earshot of the others. 

“Really?” Ben said. “I doubt that. I’ve not been to Ryloth in many years.”

She snorted. “But you _have_ been there. My father spoke of you. I know your face.”

Ben cocked an eyebrow at her, even as he settled Kanan in the messy bed, smoothing sheets and propping him on pillows with gentle, gnarled hands. “Oh?”

“Kanan has a holocron. He recorded your message. I saw it. Saw you. Master Kenobi.”

Ben looked, if anything, amused. “A holocron you say?” he asked. “Very interesting. Most of them were scattered after the order fell. They’re very rare. Very valuable these days. And you say your friend has one?”

“His master gave it to him,” she said. “He recorded your message on it, so it wouldn’t be lost.”

“Clever of him,” Ben said, pulling a stool close to the bed and waving Hera to him. “But he always was innovative. Even as a padawan.”

“You know who he is.”

“I know who he used to be, yes. Please, sit. He’ll want to see you when he wakes. I know I would.”

She reached out and took Kanan’s hand in hers. There had been a time when they’d stopped themselves from feeling too much for each other, when he’d said they were not supposed to do this, when she’d told him her work would always come first.

She was glad that foolishness hadn’t lasted.

Ben sat near the head of the bed, hands hovering over Kanan’s head. She couldn’t feel the force, but she presumed the old man was doing something, because he closed his eyes and was very still for a few minutes. She was surprised when he started to talk, without opening his eyes. “The force can be used to encourage healing, but it can’t fix everything. Broken promises. Isolation. The feeling of being abandoned… those are all wounds that your friend carries and will not forgive easily.”

“He doesn’t blame the Jedi for what happened,” Hera said.

“He is too kind to us.” Ben’s hands sketched a pattern in the air above Kanan’s head, and she saw his brow draw together and his lips tighten. “We lost our way. In slow, ponderous shifts, across generations, like continents, we were so certain of our role and our place in the light that we ignored everything else. We _allowed_ the Emperor to destroy us.”

“You protected us,” Hera protested. “You were there on Ryloth, you saw what the Separatists did to my people. You helped us free ourselves.”

“The Separatists were a symptom of a larger cause, one that we did nothing to prevent, and that ultimately destroyed us.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I know you are part of the larger rebellion. I have a purpose here, just as you do, and while mine is small, it is no less important.”

Hera was used to only seeing part of the picture. When Fulcrum had first made contact, through her father, through contacts that had been established well before the fall of the Jedi and the beginning of the Empire, she had been willing to do whatever it took. But with Kanan injured, and bits and pieces of information being handed to her like tidbits to a pet… well. 

Kenobi’s serene Jedi calm was beginning to seriously piss her off.

“When I joined the rebellion there was absolutely no talk of Jedi. My contact…” 

Kenobi smiled, a fond, but sad smile. “Ahsoka.”

So he knew of her as well. _“Ahsoka_ only talked of you all as dead and gone. Do none of you talk to each other? Kanan is the only Jedi I’ve met who hasn’t been completely infuriating.”

“Kanan is a rare breed. The first of the new order. We’re old, and outdated. Kanan and Ahsoka will be the midwives who birth the Jedi anew.”

Kanan’s hand was still firmly clasped in hers. “What if he doesn’t want to?” she said. “What if _she_ doesn’t want to?”

“Kanan has already taken a padawan. I… believe that Ahsoka will want to, when the time comes.”

“Do you have a secret stash of force sensitive children somewhere?” Hera asked bitterly.

Ben sighed, moving his hands lower on Kanan’s face and tilting his head. “You’re angry.”

“Of course I am. But since I’m not force sensitive that doesn’t matter so much, does it?”

“The dark side is not the only thing that corrupts,” Ben said. “Those who do not feel the force far outnumber those who do, and in the end, the galaxy belongs to you.” With that his hands settled on Kanan’s shoulder and he leaned forward, whispering something into his ear and pressing down. Hera’s hearing was more sensitive than most twi’lek’s, and she had years of observing others, learning languages, training to understand and pick up on nuances that other people missed. So she heard what Kenobi said to Kanan — the last padawan. _Caleb Dume._

_Wake up. We need you._

Kanan’s eyes opened, and his hand tightened on Hera’s, even as Ben nodded to her, pulled up his hood so his face was in shadow, and slipped outside. 

She understood. She might not be force sensitive, but she knew how to repress her anger. 

“Hera?” he asked.

“I’m here, Kanan,” she said, smoothing hair back from his brow. “It’s all right.”


	10. Chapter 10

It seemed like hours later — the suns were definitely setting in the distance — when Ben emerged from the hut. He had his hood up and looked older than he had when Ezra had first seen him at the cave, stooped, as though he carried a heavy burden. Ezra didn’t have time to worry that the old man might be tired from his exertions or might have found caring for Kanan more taxing than whatever it was he did all day in this hut by himself on the edge of the desert. He dropped his hydrospanner and rushed forward, barreling into the old man and barely restraining himself from shaking him. “Is he all right? Is Kanan all right?”

“Woah there, young one,” Ben steadied him, holding onto his arms and shifting him back, so that Ezra could see the bright blue of his eyes in the shadow of his hood. There was something… familiar about those eyes, but Ezra was too concerned about Kanan to wonder why they tugged at him, why the man’s hands on his elbows felt warm and buzzed with energy.

“Your friend is well. He will need some rest, and some care, nothing that you cannot manage on your ship.”

The relief that Ezra felt was almost enough, but he needed to see that Kanan was all right, and tried to push past Ben to get into the hut. “Give him a moment, little one,” Ben said. “The twi’lek lady is seeing to him right now. They might need a few moments.”

Ezra blushed and looked down. Of course, Hera would be wanting to make sure Kanan was fit to travel before he came outside, and he had no business intruding on their time together. “He’s all right though?”

“He should make a full recovery. I would suggest he not get buried in any more caves, but I have a feeling that in your particular line of work you do not get much choice about the dangers you face.”

Ezra looked at Luke, who was grinning, and then back at Ben, whose eyes were twinkling under his hood. The suns were dipping lower and there was a definite chill to the wind that blew across the dunes. Ezra didn’t much like the idea of travelling back to the Ghost once it hit full dark. The desert was strange enough in the light of the day.

“Thanks a lot,” Zeb said gruffly. “For your help. There’s not many who’ll stick their necks out for strangers in the Galaxy.”

“Oh, I didn’t stick my neck out for a stranger,” Ben said, putting one hand on Luke’s shoulder. “Any friend of Luke’s is a friend of mine.”

Luke grinned up at the old man, then back at Ezra. “I told you he’d help.”

“I do suggest you avoid Tatooine for a while, however,” Ben continued. “The sand people do not easily forget grudges.”

“But you know, if you want you can come and visit,” Luke said. “Avoiding the sand people, though. There are still a lot of womp rats that need shooting.”

Ezra smiled back at Luke. In all his time on Lothal, he’d never really had a friend his own age. The other street kids were competition for food, or shelter and the kids who had parents and homes distrusted him and pitied him by turns. It was easier to be on his own. But Luke had such an open… trusting nature to him…

Ezra didn’t have the heart to tell the kid he was too naive to survive. Maybe that was his uncle and aunt’s job. Maybe that was Ben’s. 

It definitely wasn’t Ezra’s.

“You’ll be hearing of us,” Ezra said blithely, gently knocking his shoulder against Luke’s. 

“I hope so,” Luke said. “And remember me. Please.”

Ben steered the other boy away from Ezra, to a beat up old speeder that Ezra figured belonged to the man. “Luke you need to be getting back to your uncle and aunt.”

“But Ben…”

“No arguments. Take the speeder and go home. I don’t want another lecture from your aunt about how much of a bad influence I am.” Ezra saw Luke slump and felt a brief, sharp stab of envy, that Luke had so many others looking out for him. Then Hera came into sight, out of the hut, with Kanan’s arm draped over her shoulder, and he remembered that he wasn’t alone. Not any more.

His master looked pale, and there was a nasty green and black bruise covering most of his forehead that made Ezra wince to look at him, but he was alive, and he was upright, and the rush of joy he felt flared out through the force like a blast of hot wind.

Ben and Luke both looked at Ezra sharply, and Kanan, who had been looking down, looked up, flinching against the glare from the light of the setting suns, but with a smile on his lips.

“Hey,” Kanan said, his voice hoarse and rasping. “Heard there was a party.”

Ezra rushed to him, stopping himself short of throwing his arms around his middle, but touching his arm and squeezing it, probably too tightly.

“Are you all right?”

Kanan patted his shoulder. “I’m fine, kid,” he said. “Just fine.”

“You have business,” Ben said. “I’m sorry that I can’t offer you my hospitality any longer.” Ezra noticed that he kept his head turned away from Kanan and Hera, but he was too pleased to see Kanan on his feet to wonder why.

“You have our thanks,” Hera said. “But we should get back to the Ghost.”

“I’m sorry about your cargo,” Luke said.

Hera’s mouth pressed together. “Thank you, Luke,” she said. “But we’ll get by. And I think we might be able to wrangle some compensation.”

“Good luck,” Ben wished them.

Kanan sat in front of Zeb again on the way back to the ship. Luke and Ben stayed at Ben’s hut, watching as they sped away, and Ezra had a moment to wonder if they’d ever see the boy and his strange friend again. Probably not, he reasoned. There really was nothing on Tatooine that they needed, aside from this one problematic cargo, and aside from Luke himself Ezra could do without any of the memories he’d formed here.

At the Ghost, Zeb gently helped Kanan down from his speeder and led him inside. Ezra tried to follow, but Hera held him back. “He needs rest,” she said. “Let’s give him some time.”

“What are we going to do about the cargo?” Sabine asked. “Ahsoka needed those weapons and supplies, we…”

“I’ve got a few ideas,” Hera said, and the set of her shoulders, the way her lips pressed together, made Ezra think they were probably violent ones.

“Ha!” Sabine said. “ _This_ should be fun.”


	11. Chapter 11

Zeb helped settle Kanan into his bunk before heading back out, and Hera sat on it next to him, one hand tangled in his hair just above the angry mess of bruises that was his forehead. Whatever Ben… _Kenobi_ had done had reduced the swelling and obviously taken away a lot of the pain, because Kanan nuzzled against her hand like a lothcat searching for scratches. She obliged, smiling a little, twirling strands around her fingers and gently tugging.

“Now are you going to tell me what happened?” he asked.

“You gave yourselves away,” she said softly. 

He sighed. “Again?”

She shook her head. “This time it might have been to our advantage.”

“How could it possibly be to our advantage? I may as well just wave a sign around for the Sith Lord to see, he can come finish us all off…”

She took a deep breath. She was ninety percent certain that Kenobi didn’t want her to tell Kanan who he really was, but she had also been a hundred percent certain, after Mustafar, that she never wanted him to be working in the dark again. 

And Kenobi had meant something to him. She knew that much.

“The old man who helped you,” she said. “It was Obi Wan Kenobi.”

The thing about Kanan that sometimes made her too afraid to move in his presence was that he _trusted_ her. From the moment they’d met, in that alleyway on Gorse, she’d known it, she’d known subconsciously that she could have asked him to do anything and he would have jumped to it without hesitation. It was terrifying, in its own way, that trust, more terrifying than the love that came afterwards, because it brought with it the constant knowledge that one day she could break it. The knowledge that one day she might _have_ to break it. For the rebellion. 

She’d never seen that trust waver, not in six years, and it didn’t know, although he blinked, his eyebrows pulled together, his brain worked and there was a moment when he wanted not to believe her. 

“The kid,” he said, letting out a breath in realisation.

Hera didn’t understand. “What?”

“Luke. The kid. He’s force sensitive. Master Kenobi must be here for him.”

Hera sucked in a breath. “You knew he was force sensitive?”

Kanan shook his head. “Suspected it. Couldn’t be certain without… testing. Like with Ezra. But if Master Kenobi is here for the kid he must be strong in the force.”

Hera’s brows came together. “So he’s here to train Luke? But Luke couldn’t use the force and he’s the same age as Ezra surely…” Kanan let out a breath that was mostly exasperated, then winced. She hissed through her teeth and smoothed her hands over his shoulders. “Hush love.”

“Ezra’s safe with us. With me. As much as he can be. But Luke has family and a place… Master Kenobi… must be waiting for the right time.” 

Hera suddenly remembered the message in the holocron. _A New Hope will emerge. Luke. Kenobi thinks Luke is the new hope for the Jedi._

Hera felt a surge of anger against the old man. Kanan had been here, this whole time, Kanan had taken a padawan, shouldered all the responsibility of the order, and Kenobi had been waiting on a planet at the edge of the galaxy _hiding._

“Anger won’t help,” he said to her, softly. 

Hera pursed her lips. “I’m not angry,” she said, and his lips twitched. 

“I can feel it, Hera.”

 _Oh._ She would never really get used to that. Even in sentients without the force if the emotion was strong enough Kanan could feel it. It had… made some conversations a little easier, over the years.

“Okay so maybe I am angry.”

“It’s all right. I am too. I should meditate, work through it…”

“You’re in no condition to do anything but rest right now,” she said.

“Meditation will help,” he said, trying to sit up. This time she let him. He was right. The Jedi meditation would speed his healing process, but she didn’t think that was why he wanted to. 

“Kanan…” His eyes were shut, there was a line down the centre of his forehead — from pain and the burden of knowledge. He put out a hand though, touched her shoulder, smoothing his fingers across her in a gesture both familiar and questioning.

“Does the rebellion know?” he asked. _“Did_ they know about Master Kenobi?”

Hera looked down. _Could they have found him earlier? Could he have avoided spending so much time alone?_

“He mentioned Ahsoka’s name,” she said. 

Kanan’s jaw clenched and her heart ached. 

“You didn’t though,” he said, and there was no doubt in that statement. That trust again. Unbroken, unshaken.

Goddess she hoped she never failed it. “I didn’t know about Kenobi, no. But there have been hints of other Jedi for years and I was pretty sure Ahsoka knew about at least some of them.”

He let out his breath. “It doesn’t matter right now.” But it did, oh it did. He seemed to have forgotten that he was supposed to be meditating, and just sat there, on hand still on her shoulder. Then he frowned. “What about the cargo?”

She winced. “We lost it,” she said.

Kanan let out such a string of curse words that she was glad Ezra was out of the room. Then he surged to his feet, and started to pace. “This is Solo’s fault. Why did he leave the cargo in that cave? I bet he sold us out…”

“I had been thinking something similar. But he didn’t seem that smart.”

“Let’s get to the rendezvous. At the very least he owes us our money back.” Kanan started for the door, then stumbled. She was at his side as fast as lightning, and he leaned heavily on her. 

“You are not going _anywhere_ Kanan Jarrus.”

His head dropped so she could feel his beard tickling the top of her lekku, warm breath ghosting over them and almost making her shiver. “You’re calling me by my full name, Hera Syndulla. Does that mean I’m in trouble?”

“You’re in trouble every time you hurt yourself like this, love, you know that.”

“I didn’t do it to _myself.”_

“Oh I’m sure it’s your fault somehow.” She led him back to the bunk, sat him down on it. “I think no meditating for you right now. Sleep first. You need to clear your head in a non-jedi way.”

“Meditating will help,” he said, but the protest was weak.

“I’m sure it will, dear. But right now I’m in charge.”

“Yes ma’am.”


	12. Chapter 12

Hera came back into the cockpit looking tired, but her mouth was set in a hard line of determination. 

“How’s Kanan?” Ezra asked.

“Resting. And will be for the next day if I have my way.” She slid into the pilot’s chair, and started flicking switches. 

“Are we going to meet the contact?”

“Yes,” the Ghost lifted off, smoothly, and Hera guided her towards orbit. 

Sometimes the blue and white swirl of hyperspace was calming for her. Today she couldn’t let go of the tension in her shoulders and her head was beginning to pound. She wasn’t exactly sure how long it had been since she’d slept, but the rest of the crew had turned in hours ago and she was still sitting here. She told herself she was monitoring systems, but in reality she was remembering seeing the cave mouth collapse, over and over.

Kanan always knew when her moods were bad. Warm hands found her shoulders and smoothed over them, digging into muscles and chasing aches. “Hey,” he said. She looked up into a too pale face with a bacta patch covering most of one side. His hair, usually so neatly pulled back, was crazily mussed around the patches and hanging down over the side of his face, and there was stubble outside the usually perfect line of his beard.

“You look dreadful,” she said, but she couldn’t help but smile as she said it.

“Ezra’s not so great with the application of bacta patches, it seems,” he said. “But I feel a lot better. How long till the rendezvous?”

“Another twelve hours,” she said, then her eyes narrowed. “And no.”

“No what?”

“You can’t come. You’re hurt. _”_

“We’re just going to meet Solo and tell him the deal went south, aren’t we?”

“Yes, but we’re doing it at Port Nowhere and I’m not letting you set foot in that place in your current state.”

Karan sighed. “Hera I know that port better than you do. It’d be stupid to leave me here.”

“We also don’t know that this isn’t an elaborate scheme to trap you and hand you to the Imperials for a bounty, Kanan.”

“Solo’s a good kid. I don’t like him much, but he’s not the type to…”

“You met him gambling in a bar, Kanan, how can you…” He looked at her and she sighed. “Okay. Okay so you think he’s redeemable. Fine. I wasn’t going to shoot him any way, I was just going to let Zeb intimidate him a little.”

“Well there’s no reason why we can’t still let Zeb intimidate him a little.”

She smiled. “Go back to bed. I’ll call you when we’re ready.”

 

Rumours and legends said that Port Nowhere wasn’t always in the same place, and didn’t even always have the same name, but it was the kind of place people in a certain kind of business ended up at. It was official, as far as it went, an independent mining guild establishment, or something like that (whichever “official” organisation that took responsibility for it also changed on a regular basis). There were custom checks and weapon scans, but no one actually tried to take their weapons from them, and whatever the customs officials were looking for probably would have raised the hairs on the back of a rancour. 

Zen and Kanan and Hera got through customs with barely a bribe, and Hera was grateful Kanan had managed to convince Ezra and Sabine to stay on the ship. There’d been a lot of whining, but there was no way he wanted to expose Ezra to the kinds of people who frequented Port Nowhere. Not at this stage of his apprenticeship. 

Music blared from speakers every few metres and the air was heavy with scented smoke, some of which was definitely drugged. Kanan raised his head and sniffed, looking at her and smiling a little, even as Zeb snorted and put a hand over his muzzle.

“Spice in the ventilators,” he said. “Not much, but watch yourselves.”

They’d all injected a mild antidote before getting off the Ghost, Kanan and Hera both familiar with the habits of Port Nowhere vendors and administration, although she doubted there was enough to give even a non-innoculated sentient more than a light buzz. Moving through the twisting corridors to the bar where Solo was going to meet them was confusing enough for them.

They found Solo at a sabacc table, smiling his charming smile and leaning back, his tight black pants and white shirt in stark contrast to the dim muddy colours worn by the sentients around him. He stood out, especially when he flashed his teeth in a white smile, but he didn’t seem out of place, and Hera began to think that they might have underestimated him. 

“You’re late,” he said. “You’re going to have to wait for me to finish this hand.”

Hera crossed her arms over her chest, not willing to indulge the man’s arrogance, but Kanan put one hand on her arm and smiled, leaning forward. 

“Your partners all have other places to be,” he said softly, and with that, Solo’s opponents started packing themselves up and moving away.

She hadn’t seen him use the force that blatantly many times, and still wondered at it, even as the table cleared and Solo looked at him with a frown on his face. “Huh,” he said. “And I was ahead too. Good thing they didn’t decide to take the pot with them.”

“Deal went south, Han,” Kanan said.

Solo’s frown deepened. “Hey, it’s _Captain Solo_ to you, _Mister_ Jarrus.”

“You left the cargo in a spot that was too vulnerable,” Hera said. “The sand people took it.”

“That’s not my fault. I thought you’d be able to handle it.”

“Perhaps,” Kanan said. “But since we didn’t get our cargo, you’re not going to get your money.”

Solo frowned and leaned forward. “You had one job, that you were perfectly equipped for. It’s not my fault you weren’t good enough to pull it off.”

“Just tell me one thing,” Kanan said. “Did you leave the cargo there because you wanted us to fail, or did you leave it there because you were too stupid to find somewhere better?”

Solo stood up, drawing his blaster and pointing it at Kanan. “I don’t _appreciate_ being called stupid,” he said. Hera put her hand on Kanan’s arm, finding it stiff with tension, and the bar fell silent around them.

The soft growl of a wookiee interrupted the silence and Solo frowned, looking away from them towards it. Hera glanced that way too, to see one of the massive furred aliens standing nearby, looking at Solo with, if she judged wookiee expressions any well at all, a great deal of anger. 

“What, Chewie?” Solo said. “I wasn’t going to _kill_ him.”

The wookiee growled again and Hera caught a little of his meaning — glancing at Kanan to see if he understood. He obviously did because he shook his head and held up his hands.

“Okay, okay, it’s all right. We can have a civilised discussion about this,” he looked pointedly at Han’s blaster, and Han, frowning, turned to the wookiee.

“What do you mean they saved…” Chewie spat out a few more growls and grunts, and Hera was relieved to understand a lot of it was along the lines of _we really shouldn’t talk about this in public, Han._

 _“_ These are the guys huh?” Solo said finally, holstering his blaster. He shook his head, looking at Kanan with a mixture of jealousy and curiosity. “Chewie here says you helped out some of his people, on Kessel.” 

Hera looked at the Wookiee, one eyebrow raised. The wookiee raised his hands and said a few more words, and Solo pushed the wookiee’s hand down, shaking his head and stopping him from saying anything more. “So. Looks like we owe you,” Han said.

Hera blinked. “You’re just going to take his word?” she asked. Chewie growled at her, and then made the little huffing noise she recognised as a wookiee chuckle.

“Chewie’s my partner,” Solo said, and his voice hardened. “I trust him with my life. If he says you’re good people you’re good people, and I don’t like getting on the bad side of good people, not unless I’m getting paid a whole lot more than the Cartel are paying me for dumping cargo in sand blasted caves.”

“Okay. So. Our money? You could give it back…”

Hera elbowed Kanan in the ribs and he winced. Han shrugged. “No. No I’ll do better than that. I’ll help you get your cargo back.”

“What?” Hera asked.

Solo shrugged. “Look, I put the cargo in that cave because I thought it would be safe. I didn’t know about the sand people, or at least I didn’t think they’d be as smart as they were. One of Jabba’s security guys said the cave was a drop off they used whenever they wanted to move things… quiet like.”

Karan took a deep breath. “Jabba recommended the cave to you?”

“One of his people did. Bib Fortuna. Slimy son of a hutt and no mistake.”

Hera pursed her lips. “I’ve heard of him. Not the finest example of my people. So Fortuna recommended you this cave, and then the sand people attacked it.”

Hera shook her head, and Han rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “You’re thinking Jabba sent the Sand people to get the cargo back, so Jabba could get his payment twice over.”

Kanan shrugged. “It’s the sort of thing I would do…” Hera glanced at him _“… would have_ done.”

“So if we both want to get paid there’s an easy enough solution.”

“We take the cargo back,” Hera said. “From the Sand People. Or from the Cartel.”

Han grinned.

“You’d steal from the Cartel?” Kanan asked. “I thought you worked for them?”

“Hey they’d do the same to me, first chance they got. And if Chewie here is right, I won’t have to show my face at all. They won’t know it was _me_ did the stealing and I can show up to work tomorrow and get myself another job no problems.”

“Solo you haven’t changed a bit,” Kanan said, but he was smiling.

“It’s me,” Han said. “Why would I want to?”


	13. Chapter 13

He wasn’t coming on board the Ghost, that was at least one thing that set Kanan’s overly stressed heart at ease. Much as he was certain his assessment of Han was correct — he’d felt no warning from the force about his intentions (which was one of the reasons they’d walked straight into the trap on Tatooine in the first place, but that was another problem) but there was something about letting someone so completely from his past onto the Ghost that set his nerves on edge. Instead they undocked from Port Nowhere in formation, ready to head back towards Tatooine. It was a long trip, and the Ghost would normally outpace any ship for that distance in hyperspace, but Solo had laughed and told them he’d be there before them.

Hera’s eyes had narrowed and Kanan had had to suppress a grin — she’d taken it as a challenge, and sure enough he’d found her in the engine room with Chopper in the coast away from station to their departure point, trying to coax as much out of the engines as they possibly could before they jumped.

Once they had jumped, however, and they were in the relative calm of hyperspace, Hera turned to him, one tattooed eyebrow raised. “Do you want to tell me about Solo?” she said.

He sighed and leaned back. “There really is nothing to tell. We met on Nar Shadaa, when we were both too young to be within fifty parsecs of it, he cheated me out of some money, I stole it back from him.”

“He cheated you out of money?” Hera’s mouth turned up at the corners and Kanan rolled his eyes. 

“He’s a good card player, I’ll give him that. But he’s not _that_ good.”

“Sounds like we should introduce him to Lando.”

“I’d put money on them already knowing each other. In any case, he’s not a bad guy, not that I can feel any way. And if Chewbacca believes in him I’ll take the word of the wookiee.”

“Okay, Kanan. Let’s just hope we get that cargo back. This job is turning out to be a lot more complicated than we ever wanted it to be.”

The Ghost beat the Falcon into Tattooine by less than a minute. Han accused them of cheating. Hera just laughed.

 

###

 

Kanan had been against going back to Kenobi for help, and he was certain that the Jedi master would not be pleased to see him given he was most definitely trying to avoid attention. He told himself that at least leaving Hera and the others behind was enough to make sure that the former master’s identity would be kept secret. He’d quashed the desire to bring Ezra, surprisingly strong until he realised why he was even considering it. 

Kenobi wasn’t training Luke, that much was obvious, and Kanan didn’t think that was the right thing to be doing. Coming into the force much later than Luke’s age could only be dangerous for all concerned. And Kanan wouldn’t lie to himself, he was proud of Ezra, and proud of the progress he’d made in the months since he’d started his training, and part of him wanted to show him off.

So he’d left him on the Ghost with the others, who had all protested vociferously (all except Hera, who smiled and nodded and let him go). If there was something that a Jedi Master and… and another Jedi Master (Yoda had said that he was one, he kept forgetting that) couldn’t handle in the wastes then having the whole crew with them wouldn’t help at all.

He climbed off his speeder out the front of Obi-wan’s… _no, Ben’s_ hut and approached the doorway. Kenobi ducked out just as Kanan was approaching, obviously having sensed him. Probably from a long way off. 

The older man wasn’t happy to see him, that much was obvious.

“Caleb,” he said.

“Kanan,” Kanan corrected.

“Captain Syndyulla chose to tell you everything I see,” Kenobi said, mouth downturned, but his blue eyes were kind.

“Funny thing,” Kanan said. “I was under the impression that as at fifteen years ago I was the only Jedi left in this corner of the Galaxy. I keep getting proven wrong on that.:

“You were always a resourceful padawan Caleb… _Kanan.”_

Kanan stopped himself from snorting, but wasn’t going to push it. “We need your help to find our supplies. I figured you wouldn’t appreciate it if we went back to Luke for that.”

“No,” Kenobi said darkly. “Luke is best kept far away from this business. Although I fear my sheltering him is not going to last forever.”

“At least he has _someone_ sheltering him,” Kanan said.

Kenobi had the decency to wince at that, although Kanan felt a little cheap for making the jab in the first place.

“Speeders attract attention,” Kenobi said. “Better if we take the Eopies.”

Kanan blinked. “What’s an Eopie?”

 

###

 

Turned out the eopie was called Rooh, and Rooh had a son called, amusingly, Kisto, that Master Kenobi expected Kanan to ride into the desert. Kanan hoped against hope that the beast was one of the few in the Galaxy he wasn’t allergic to, and mounted up for the trip out to the cave.

Force sensitivity was good for a few things, and the eopies were both fairly sedate animals so the trip was uneventful.

The cave was deserted and the supplies were long gone, just as Kanan had expected. Although without Kenobi he probably could have gotten a fair idea of which direction the sand people had taken their booty, it only took Kenobi two minutes of picking over bantha tracks and testing the air before he nodded and turned back to Kanan.

“They headed towards the southern camps,” he said. “I know the way.”

The eopies were surprisingly fast across the sandy landscape and traveled in near silence, giving Master Kenobi the opportunity to talk to Kanan as they rode. “It’s possible to reason with the sand people,” he said. “But I should warn you there is little likelihood they will give back the supplies willingly. Life is difficult out here.”

Kanan shook his head. “I don’t think the sand people still have the supplies, Master,” he said. Kenobi frowned at him and Kanan sighed. “We have reason to think that Jabba arranged the raid as a set up, to make us lose the cargo, but he wouldn’t do that unless he had a way of getting them back for himself afterwards…”

Kenobi’s face fell at Kanan’s words and he spurred his epoie faster. Kanan wasn’t certain, but he thought he heard his old master swear under his breath.

Life was difficult out here, indeed.

 

###

 

The sand people settlement wasn’t much to look at — huts that looked like they were made out mud but were probably bantha hide layered with ancient dirt, water tanks scattered here and there, fire pits for cooking, strange bundles of bone tied together and stuck in the sand as markings or decorations — Kanan didn’t know which. 

It wasn’t the obvious poverty of the settlement that was so shocking and depressing, however. 

“They’re all dead,” Kanan said, slipping down from Kisto’s back, heart constricting in his chest. 

There wasn’t a single spark of life in the camp. Bodies lay littered everywhere. Kanan couldn’t tell what gender they were in their strange wrappings, but the size of some of the bodies made him sick to his stomach — children, even infants. All dead.

Kenobi was tight lipped with grief and anger as he searched the camp. There were no obvious signs of violence, indeed most of the bodies looked as though they had simply collapsed where they stood, or worked. 

Kanan’s eyes narrowed as he realised that the bodies were in clumps, more numerous near the water tanks.

Kenobi seemed to reach the same conclusion that Kanan had, and he made his way back to Kanan. “Jabba poisoned the water,” he said, and Kanan was shocked at the fury in his voice. Master Kenobi, it seemed, was a long way removed from his usual Jedi calm.

Kanan cast his eyes over the settlement again, frowning in puzzlement. When the first few people fell, the sand people wouldn’t have suspected their water supply, but _everyone_ was dead. After the fifth or sixth surely they would have realised what was happening. “Why did they keep drinking?” Kanan asked.

Kenobi angrily took a swig from his own canteen, then re-hooked it to Rooh’s saddle. “What else could they do?” he asked bitterly. “The nearest water supply from here would be more than two days travel, with no Banthas.” He indicated the larger lumps at the outskirts of the camp — dead beasts that could have carried the sand people to safety. But they needed to drink as well. “It was die of thirst out there or die quickly here.”

The sick feeling in Kanan’s stomach increased. “This is our fault,” he said softly.

Kenobi shook his head and patted Kanan on the shoulder. “No, Caleb,” he said. “It’s Jabba’s.” Kenobi looked back out over the camp, then sighed and reached into his robe. “We need to destroy the tanks,” he said. “Otherwise another tribe will come and steal the water. There has been enough death here today.”

Kanan nodded. “Yes,” he said, reaching for his own saber. “Yes there has.”

 


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand we're back. So sorry for the delay guys. I'm like, really really sorry. I think I'll be back to regular posting now but I'm not going to make any firm promises because I'm scared I'll break them. Also the formatting is driving me absolutely INSANE at the moment, I do not know what is going on with the text editor on this site but it's awful so I'm sorry about the paragraph breaks, I DON'T KNOW HOW TO FIX THEM.

“Well, we suspected getting the cargo back wouldn’t be as simple as asking the sand people nicely,” Hera said. Kanan had returned -- without Kenobi. There was no reason to let Han know they’d had his help to get out of the mess at the cave, and the less people who came into contact with him the better. Whatever his feelings about the Jedi Master and his exile, Kanan did not want him to be captured.

He limped onto the Ghost -- his backside and legs weren’t used to riding anything other than a speeder -- to find Hera and Solo discussing engine maintenance (from the horrified look on Hera’s face when he’d interrupted them, he suspected Solo’s interpretation of maintenance was looser than hers) while Chewbacca chattered to Sabine and Ezra. Sabine, of course, understood Shyriiwook, and was only remembering to translate for Ezra every now and then, something that was making his apprentice vibrate with impatience. Kanan made a mental note to teach him how to push those feelings aside at some point, although the mental notes of things he had to teach Ezra were crowding each other out to the point where he thought it might be better just to wipe them clean and start again.

“So we get the cargo back from Jabba the Hutt,” Kanan said, sitting down and wincing.

“Breaking into the palace isn’t going to be easy,” Hera said. “He’s paranoid, even for a hutt. Surrounds himself with guards -- droids and Gamorreans. There are rumours he has a fully stocked beastiary under the palace as well.”   
“Beastiary?”

“Jabba likes big things with teeth,” Solo said. “Probably because he hasn’t got any of his own.”

“So a full frontal assault is out of the question.”   
Chewie growled something out in Shyriiwook and Han’s eyebrows shot up on his face. “What did he say?” Ezra asked.

“He wanted to know how big the bounty on you is,” Solo said.

Hera and Kanan blinked at each other. “What bounty?”

Solo looked around the room, spreading his hands. “Come on, come on, you’re rebels, you’re running from the Empire, you’re obviously well organised. If the Empire doesn’t have a bounty on you then I’m a Jawa.”   
Sabine had looked up at Solo’s comment and Kanan raised an eyebrow at her. “Something you wanted to tell us, Sabine?”

“Well, I wasn’t going to mention it, because I figured you all already knew.”

“Knew what, Sabine?”

“We do. Have a bounty on us, I mean. It’s not as much as it  _ should  _ be, most bounty hunters wouldn’t bother, not against the Ghost, I mean they don’t really have a chance against us so…”

“Sabine…” 

“What? Anyway we’ve got one and I’m pretty sure Agent Kallus and friends aren’t happy about it but what can you do.”

Solo was leaning back and smirking. “Well then, listen up. If  _ you’ve _ got a bounty on you,  _ I’ve _ got us a way into the palace.”

 

“I had no idea the Hutts did this,” Kanan said as they sped over the open desert towards Jabba’s palace. He and Ezra had cuffs on their wrists, sitting back to back on a speeder that was really too small for them, while Han shouted at them over his shoulder. Every time he turned around to talk to them he took his eyes off their route and once or twice he let go of the controls. The first time he did that Kanan nearly shouted a warning - but Chewie simply took hold of the steering column seamlessly as though it was something he did all the time. Kanan couldn’t quite stop the lurch in his stomach every time it happened, but felt fairly confident the wookiee wouldn’t let them crash into a rock formation before they got to the palace.

“Jabba’s into  _ credits _ ,” Han said. “He likes to make investments. You guys having a small bounty on your heads actually makes this a better plan, if it’d been too high he wouldn’t have bought you from me.”

“So what,” Kanan said, “he buys us from you at a little bit more than the Empire’s bounty, then he puts us in a cell and waits for the bounty to go up?”   
“First rule of banking. He’ll plant some misinformation about you too, make it look like you’re doing more damage out there than you actually are being locked up and all, try to drive up the price. Then he’ll package you up and hand you over and collect the credits  _ and  _ the good will of the empire, he likes that, it means he can conduct business without too many questions.”

“So he’s cheating the Empire  _ and _ making them like him,” Ezra said. “I’m impressed.”

Kanan couldn’t twist enough to see his apprentice’s expression, but he knew Ezra well enough to know what it would be.

“Ezra,” he said. “You have to see that it’s wrong.”

“I’m not saying it’s a nice thing to do, Kanan, it’s just a good business strategy.”

“Kid’s right,” Han said. “Jabba has more money than most small governments these days, he controls Tatooine and half of the outer rim. If the Empire cared about it more they’d come in and shut him down.”

“The people are better off with Jabba than the Empire,” Ezra said darkly.   
Han shrugged. “I know a few people who’d argue with that,” he said.

“So why do you work for him?” Kanan asked.   
“I don’t work for him, kid,” Han sounded angry, now. “I’m independent, me. I go where the credits are.”

Kanan gave Han a piercing look. “So, are we the first people you’ve sold to him?” Kanan asked .

Chewbacca gave a low warning growl and Kanan glanced at the wookiee curiously. Han looked at his friend as well, shook his head, minutely, then looked back at Kanan. “I don’t do slaves, Jarrus. Never have done, never will. So yeah, this is the first time I’ve sold him anyone. Not that he hasn’t asked me to, but I’m a smuggler, not a bounty hunter.”

“He won’t be suspicious?”

“Not if I tell him I caught you stealing from me.”

Ezra gave Han a look. 

“Let’s just say that Jabba ain’t great at empathy  _ unless _ it’s to do with losing money, okay?”

“Fine,” Ezra said. “Let’s just get this done.”

 

Jabba’s palace was ostentatious and extravagant, but without those peculiar human trappings of wealth. Rich humans tended towards large, empty spaces, sparsely populated -- as though they believed their money would be contaminated by contact with other sentient species. By contrast Jabba’s palace was packed with people, all species, and the spaces were built to accommodate them. While Kanan wouldn’t have thought the hutt to be known for his generosity, there was food and drink freely available in plenty, and some of the people were obviously only there in order to partake in it. But they were watched, with keen eyes, by other types -- hard faced, calculating types. Kanan could feel their hostility and their purpose through the force. Each and every person in the palace was carefully vetted before they were allowed entrance, and Kanan wondered if even those who were half starved and desperate were being groomed for something more.

This wasn’t slavery, not in the way he had come to understand it since leaving Coruscant, but he couldn’t help thinking that even the people here who were not slaves themselves were a resource for Jabba to use.

“We could have just walked in on our own!” Ezra hissed as they pushed through the masses in the outer chambers. “No one would have noticed us!”

“Don’t be naive, kid,” Han said. “Security would have had you in a second. They only let you in because of me and Chewie.”

Kanan nodded, and nudged Ezra’s arm. “Look,” he said, indicating the walls of the long, twisting corridor they were moving down. Spaced evenly along the walls there were small holes that could be mistaken for windows or ventilation to allow the hot winds of Tatooine to clear the accumulated heat and humidity of so many bodies pressed together out of the palace. They weren’t though. Kanan had caught a glimpse of movement in the first he’d seen, and looking up now, with Ezra, they caught the glimpse of the round eyes of a sullastan holding a heavy-powered sniper rifle.

“First sign of trouble and you’re dead,” Han said. “Or injured enough to give the pit beasts a bit of sport before you get eaten. Jabba doesn’t mess around.”

Kanan saw Ezra swallow and look down and he started to wonder if perhaps this plan was such a good idea after all.

“Just stay close,” he said to Ezra. “We’ll be fine.”

 

Jabba’s throne room was less crowded, although still held a good fifty or so sentients of varying states of inebriation. Music, loud enough for the beat to be felt thumping in his chest, blared from the corner were a band were playing -- not bad, but Kanan would have been grateful for it to be played a little more softly. A young twi’lek danced in the centre of the room, her neck, Kanan was horrified to see, collared, with a leash extending back towards the large platform on which Jabba lay. Chewbacca lead Ezra and Kanan towards the centre of the room, a little back from where the dancer leapt and twirled, and as Han came into sight the music faltered and stopped. 

“Jabba!” Han said, walking towards the platform with his hands outstretched in greeting. “You’re looking fantastic! Is that a new band you’ve got? You’re paying them too much, they’re flat on the high notes. But I  _ love _ what you’ve done with the place.”   
The Hutt’s huge head swiveled down to look at the smuggler in front of him, and he made a non-committal grunt of greeting followed by a short string of Huttese that Kanan couldn’t quite catch. 

“I know, I know, we’ve only _ just  _ done business, but I ran into a couple of thieves and I thought since I did so well out of our  _ last  _ deal why not bring my old friend Jabba a gift, the kind of gift he really likes -- the kind that brings credits.”

A tall, pale twi’lek man standing beside the hutt waved a hand in dismissal. “Jabba has no time for your fawning, Solo,” he said. “Get to the point.”

“Well, let me introduce to you…”

A low chuckle then, from somewhere behind the hutt, that sounded very familiar.

“Kanan Jarrus and Ezra Bridger,” a familiar, ginger-haired Imperial, stepped out from behind Jabba’s dais, folding his arms across his chest.

“These are the rebels you were telling me of, Agent Kallus?” Jabba said, slowly and distinctly enough for Kanan to understand every word. “You did not tell me they would be presented to me as a gift by one of my best smugglers.”

“I must admit to not knowing they had been captured. My congratulations to you… Mister Solo…”

“It’s Captain…” Solo said.

“Captain Solo. Your service to the Empire is noted, but is no longer required. I suggest you and your wookiee friend leave.”

Solo crossed his arms over his chest. “Hey, wait a minute. I was gonna get  _ paid  _ for this, this is a financial transaction that…”   
“Quiet, Solo,” Jabba said. “A minute ago you said these were a gift…”

“Of circumstance, of circumstance, Jabba, you usually pay for…”   
“I usually do whatever I please, Solo. Now get out before I throw you to the Rancor.”   
“Jabba!”

Kanan gave Han a look, willing him to go get Hera, tell her the plan had gone south. Han returned it, obviously desperate to find some way to salvage the plan. 

“Go on,” Kanan said, harshly. “You’ve done enough to make sure our people will never deal with you again,  _ Captain.” _

“Yeah!” Ezra yelled. “You’re a dirty cheat, Han Solo, if I see you again I’ll make you eat a blaster bolt!”

_ Don’t over do it, Ezra. _

Chewie took Han’s arm and started dragging the protesting smuggler away, and Kanan turned his back on him, hoping his debt to them meant something. 

_ Find Hera,  _ he willed him.  _ Get help. _

He looked back up at Kallus, whose slight smile was growing wider as he looked at them. 

_ Quickly, Han. _


End file.
